The Bell-ringer: An Old-time Village Tale

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Houghton Mifflin, 1918 - 292 pages
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Page 147 - gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long...
Page 149 - I HEARD the bells on Christmas day Their old familiar carols play, And wild and sweet The words repeat Of peace on earth, good-will to men ! And thought how, as the day had come, The belfries of all Christendom Had rolled along The unbroken song Of peace on earth, good-will to men...
Page 244 - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light : The year is dying in the night ; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow The year is going, let him go ; Ring out the false, ring in the true.
Page 126 - The time draws near the birth of Christ: The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist. Four voices of four hamlets round, From far and near, on mead and moor, Swell out and fail, as if a door Were shut between me and the sound: Each voice four changes on the wind, That now dilate, and now decrease, Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace, Peace and goodwill, to all mankind.
Page 281 - Portala's cross uplifting Above the setting sun ; And past the headland, northward, slowly drifting The freighted galleon. O solemn bells ! whose consecrated masses Recall the faith of old, — O tinkling bells ! that lulled with twilight music The spiritual fold ! Your voices break and falter in the darkness, — Break, falter, and are still ; And veiled and mystic, like the Host descending, The sun sinks from the hill...
Page 281 - BELLS of the Past, whose long-forgotten music Still fills the wide expanse, Tingeing the sober twilight of the Present With color of romance ! I hear your call, and see the sun descending On rock and wave and sand, As down the coast the Mission voices, blending, Girdle the heathen land. Within the circle of your incantation No blight nor mildew falls ; Nor fierce unrest, nor lust, nor low ambition Passes those airy walls.
Page xiii - Those joyous hours are past away ; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone ; That tuneful peal will still ring on...
Page 35 - ... not think you have felt any — I now ask your pardon. We were not suited to each other. I do not profess to be good enough for you, and you are far too good for me. Will you take my hand before we part, to show me that you bear me no ill-will, Eleanor ?" And then Eleanor broke down. She stopped, hid her face in her hands, and wept as if her heart would break. Brandon was utterly surprised. He had expected scorn, perhaps anger; but this was simple grief. He looked at her in silence. But a moment...
Page 249 - Shattuck, who had come around from behind the counter so as not to lose a word of what was being said. "Well, as far as that goes you know how 'tis,
Page 132 - She thrust her hands out in front of her as if warding off a blow. "If those are your words of comfort," she cried, "say no more of them!

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