'Tis bitter-sweet on winter nights to note, <br />Beside the palpitating fire reclined, <br />The chimes, across the fogs, upon the wind. <br />Now loud, now low, now near and now remote. <br />What recollections on that music float! <br />Blessed the bell that through the darkness blind <br />Sends honest greetings, consolations kind. <br />And solemn warnings from its lusty throat <br />Tis like a wakeful soldier, - mine, alas! <br />The soul-bell in me, can but give one cry, <br />Like that, a wounded soldier - o'er whom pass <br />Riders and horses, and around whom lie <br />The dead and dying in a tangled mass - <br />Utters, unable or to move or die.<br /><br />Toru Dutt<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-broken-bell/
