Poem by Anonymous

The Bells of Fletching

THE FLETCHING bells, with silver chime,
  Come softened o’er the distant shore;
Though I have heard them many a time,
  They never sang so sweet before.

A silence rests upon the hill,
  A listening awe pervades the air;
The very flowers are shut and still,
  And bowed as if in prayer.

1. Ettrick Banks
2. The Banks o’ Glaizart
3. Barthram’s Dirge
4. The Hermitage
5. The Enchanted Island

Print

1729 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version