I never hear the sound of thy glad bells, <br />Oxford, and chime harmonious, but I say, <br />Sighing to think how time has worn away, <br />Some spirit speaks in the sweet tone that swells, <br />Heard after years of absence, from the vale <br />Where Cherwell winds. Most true it speaks the tale <br />Of days departed, and its voice recalls <br />Hours of delight and hope in the gay tide <br />Of life, and many friends now scattered wide <br />By many fates. Peace be within thy walls! <br />I have scarce heart to visit thee; but yet, <br />Denied the joys sought in thy shades,--denied <br />Each better hope, since my poor Harriet died, <br />What I have owed to thee, my heart can ne'er forget!<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/oxford-revisited/
