FROM the near city comes the clang of bells: <br />Their hundred jarring diverse tones combine <br />In one faint misty harmony, as fine <br />As the soft note yon winter robin swells.-- <br />What if to Thee in Thine Infinity <br />These multiform and many-colored creeds <br />Seem but the robe man wraps as masquers' weeds <br />Round the one living truth Thou givest him--Thee? <br />What if these varied forms that worship prove, <br />Being heart-worship, reach Thy perfect ear <br />But as a monotone, complete and clear, <br />Of which the music is, through Christ's name, Love? <br />Forever rising in sublime increase <br />To 'Glory in the Highest,--on earth peace?'<br /><br />Dinah Maria Mulock Craik<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sunday-morning-bells/
