How sweet the tuneful bells' responsive peal!
As when, at opening morn, the fragrant breeze
Breathes on the trembling sense of wan disease,
So piercing to my heart their force I feel!
And hark! with lessening cadence now they fall,
And now, along the white and level tide,
They fling their melancholy music wide,
Bidding me many a tender thought recall
Of summer-days, and those delightful years
When by my native streams, in life's fair prime,
The mournful magic of their mingling chime
First waked my wond'ring childhood into tears;
But seeming now, when all those days are o'er,
The sounds of joy, once heard, and heard no more.
Sonnet: At Ostend, July 22nd 1787
written byWilliam Lisle Bowles
© William Lisle Bowles