The Bells in the Night

Ding—one from the old tree,
Ding—each ring on fire;
Ding—across the hill,
And the night spreads mirrors around,
The night, filled with nature and light.
With black trees in the mist—
Poor shadow—a southerly gale,
Funeral bells arise for her,
Who glances back in the night!
Come, hold me now!

• Lesbia Harford