Poetry of the bells, . [w, —s ~ s ^cXj <3K y---^ o^ <^ K-. ^J&- t 9 0° /a ?u- - 9 The lark is in the fky, And his morning-note is pouring :He hath a wing to fly, So hes soaring—Chriftian—soaring !His neft is on the ground, But only in the night;For he loves the matin-sound, And the higheft heavens —Chriftian—Hark! At heaven-door he lings !And be thou like the lark, With thy soaring spirit-wings ! The merry matin-bells, In their watch-tower they are swinging ;For the day is oer the dells, And theyre finging—Chriftian—finging !They have caught the morning beam Through thei
Poetry of the bells, . [w, —s ~ s ^cXj <3K y---^ o^ <^ K-. ^J&- t 9 0° /a ?u- - 9 The lark is in the fky, And his morning-note is pouring :He hath a wing to fly, So hes soaring—Chriftian—soaring !His neft is on the ground, But only in the night;For he loves the matin-sound, And the higheft heavens —Chriftian—Hark! At heaven-door he lings !And be thou like the lark, With thy soaring spirit-wings ! The merry matin-bells, In their watch-tower they are swinging ;For the day is oer the dells, And theyre finging—Chriftian—finging !They have caught the morning beam Through their ivied turrets wreath,And the chancel-windows gleam Is glorious beneath : /€3H CO i_ n. ? K 1 <0s I I o I o. I Go—Chriftian-—go, For the altar flameth there,And the snowy veftments glow5 Of the prefbyter at prayer ! There is morning incense flung From the childlike lily-flowers ;And their fragrant censer swung, Make it ours-r-Chriftian—ours !And hark, our Mothers hymn, And the organ-peals we love !They sound like cherubim At their orisons above !Pray-^—Chriftian-—-pray, At the bonny peep of dawn,Ere the dewdrop and the sprav That chriften it, are gone ! Arthur C. Coxe, i Vv 1 O I T
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1850, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookye
