Bells by DAVID BRUCE

TEXT
Hark! hark, my Soul! The Bells do ring, And with a louder voice
Call many Families to sing
His publick Praises, and rejoice: Their shriller Sound doth wound the Air, Their grosser Strokes affect the Ear, That we might thither all repair
And more Divine ones hear. If lifeless Earth
Can make such Mirth, What then shall Souls above the starry Sphere!
Bells are but Clay that men re+ne
And rais from duller Ore;
Yet now, as if they were divine, They call whole Cities to adore;
Exalted into Steeples they
Disperse their Sound, and from on high
Chime-in our Souls; they ev'ry way
Speak to us throu the Sky: Their iron Tongues
Do utter Songs, And shall our stony Hearts make no Reply!
From darker Mines and earthy Caves
At last let Souls awake, And leaving their obscurer Graves
From lifeless Bells example take;
Lifted above all earthly Cares, Let them (like these) rais'd up on high, Forsaking all the baser Wares
Of dull Mortality, His Praises sing, Tunably ring, In a less Distance from the peaceful Sky.

Bells. I from Poems of Felicity
by Thomas Traherne (1637–1674)