 | A book of Bristol sonnets |  |
28
ON HEARING ST. MATTHEW'S PEAL.
“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,” I hear,“Rejoice! this is the day the Lord hath made!”
And through the loopholes of that long parade
I looked, and found the message was sincere.
A laughing boy, with hand upon his ear,
In childish game with that full octave played:
With intermission, swift as sun and shade,
Heard the bells speak, now faintly and now clear.
Oh! happy child, whose being can afford
To lose of that loud eight a single word!
If yonder town as thou were listening,
To gladder hearts more glad the bells would ring;
And if, as thou, men paused with them to play,
Saint Matthew's tower might cease its roundelay.
| A book of Bristol sonnets | |