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More poems by William Lisle BowlesWilliam Lisle Bowles | Print this page.Print | Order a PoetryNotes Analysis of this poem.Analysis | View and Write CommentsComments

Sonnet: At Ostend, July 22nd 1787

William Lisle Bowles

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.

Added: 12 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 13 Feb 2012 12:06 AM | Viewed: 2336 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/5808/ | Viewed on 13 February 2012.
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