No, I never, till life and its shadows shall end, <br />Can forget the sweet sound of the bells of Ostend! <br />The day set in darkness, the wind it blew loud, <br />And rung as it passed through each murmuring shroud. <br />My forehead was wet with the foam of the spray, <br />My heart sighed in secret for those far away; <br />When slowly the morning advanced from the east, <br />The toil and the noise of the tempest had ceased; <br />The peal from a land I ne'er saw, seemed to say, <br />'Let the stranger forget every sorrow to-day!' <br />Yet the short-lived emotion was mingled with pain, <br />I thought of those eyes I should ne'er see again; <br />I thought of the kiss, the last kiss which I gave, <br />And a tear of regret fell unseen on the wave; <br />I thought of the schemes fond affection had planned, <br />Of the trees, of the towers, of my own native land. <br />But still the sweet sounds, as they swelled to the air, <br />Seemed tidings of pleasure, though mournful to bear, <br />And I never, till life and its shadows shall end, <br />Can forget the sweet sound of the bells of Ostend!<br /><br />William Lisle Bowles<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bells-of-ostend/
