The Bells Of Lynn - Heard At Nahant

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

    O curfew of the setting sun!    O Bells of Lynn!
    O requiem of the dying day!    O Bells of Lynn!

    From the dark belfries of yon cloud-cathedral wafted,
    Your sounds aerial seem to float, O Bells of Lynn!

    Borne on the evening wind across the crimson twilight,
    O'er land and sea they rise and fall, O Bells of Lynn!

    The fisherman in his boat, far out beyond the headland,
    Listens, and leisurely rows ashore, O Bells of Lynn!

    Over the shining sands the wandering cattle homeward
    Follow each other at your call, O Bells of Lynn!

    The distant lighthouse hears, and with his flaming signal
    Answers you, passing the watchword on, O Bells of Lynn!

    And down the darkening coast run the tumultuous surges,
    And clap their hands, and shout to you, O Bells of Lynn!

    Till from the shuddering sea, with your wild incantations,
    Ye summon up the spectral moon, O Bells of Lynn!

    And startled at the sight like the weird woman of Endor,
    Ye cry aloud, and then are still, O Bells of Lynn!