Classic Poem

How peaceful sound the chiming bells
From yonder lonely tower
That o'er the cornfield valley swells
And beanfields all in flower
Calmly they reach the shepherds ear
As he oer upland climbs
No day to him is half so dear
As sunday with its chimes

The beanfields make the air so sweet
In pink and purple plea
How beautiful the lake we meet
And the willow weeping tree
Decayed by time a very shell
And bent as tumbling in
The pit so deep we cannot tell
Much deeper than the chin

How beautiful the sunday looks
To any other day
How green the fields how clear the brooks
Beneath the white thorn may
How beautiful from yon old tower
The chimes their story tells
Theres little in the summer hour
So sweet as chiming bells —

Come dear Amanda walk with me
Let us enjoy the prime
Of field and meadow scenery
And hear the sabbath chime
We'll walk beneath the willow row
Where screaming plover dwells
And with the winding river go
And hear the Sabbath bells