Home
Fen
RSS Feeds
Learning Resources
The Information Age
Projects
Network Essentials
Homezones
Bert Lutman
A.W.Jackson

 

more pages

 

The Western Towers
Blackbird
Gone to Earth
The Roman Well
At Ravenscar
After Sunset
An Altar at Cilurnum
Bewcastle
Blossom
A Chorister
Frontier
The Great East Window
The Hunters of Banna
Kawabis
The Legion goes North
Lines in October
The Maiden Way
Pantheist
Pre-Existence
A Song of Forgetting
St Cuthbert's Quest
St Cuthbert's Windows
The Ringers
The Snail
The Street
Traveller's Joy
Wind at Night

 

 

 

   

 

THE RINGERS

 

BOLTON PERCY

 

The wind flings up across the indifferent stars

Senseless scribbles of leaves from the riven trees.

It moans about their caverns, frets their bars

With voices of cold ruin like the sea’s.

 

The night’s inhuman brilliance nothing tells

Of faith or joy or any homely thing

Till, suddenly, from the shadowy village, bells

Stumble to music, faltering as they ring.

 

The ringers learning their change in the church forsaken

King all unknowing a parable of this night.

Their momentary cadences awaken

Unlooked for hope, some gospel out of sight.

 

Half prayer, half truth, bright failure boldly hurled

Starward! “We try, we must” the belfry saith.

O ringers, you ring the very tune of the world;

You ring a prelude to the psalm of death.

 

 
 
   

Copyright © 2008 [Fen Tyler]