| Author |
Quotes |
| Francis Bret Harte | Your voices break and falter in the darkness,-- Break, falter, and are still. |
| Charles Tennyson Turner | How like the leper, with his own sad cry Enforcing his own solitude, it tolls! That lonely bell set in the rushing shoals, To warn us from the place of jeopardy! |
| Dante Alighieri | The vesper bell from far That seems to mourn for the expiring day. |
| Frederick Tennyson | Softly the loud peal dies, In passing winds it drowns, But breathes, like perfect joys, Tender tones. |
| George Herbert | Bells call others, but themselves enter not into the Church. |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | For bells are the voice of the church; They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old. |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | Seize the loud, vociferous fells, and Clashing, clanging to the pavement Hurl them from their windy tower! |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | These bells have been anointed, And baptized with holy water! |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | He heard the convent bell, Suddenly in the silence ringing For the service of noonday. |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | The bells themselves are the best of preachers, Their brazen lips are learned teachers, From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air, Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw, Shriller than trumpets under the Law, Now a sermon and now a prayer. |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | Bell, thou soundest merrily, When the bridal party To the church doth hie! Bell, thou soundest solemnly, When, on Sabbath morning, Fields deserted lie! |
| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | It cometh into court and pleads the cause Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws; And this shall make, in every Christian clime, The bell of Atri famous for all time. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, |
| James Shirley | Hark, how chimes the passing bell! There's no music to a knell; All the other sounds we hear, Flatter, and but cheat our ear. This doth put us still in mind That our flesh must be resigned, And, a general silence made, The world be muffled in a shade. |
| Jean Ingelow | The old mayor climbed the belfry tower, The ringers ran by two, by three; "Pull, if ye never pulled before; Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he. "Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells! Ply all your changes, all your swells, Play uppe The Brides of Enderby." |
| Lord Alfred Tennyson | Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land; Ring in the Christ that is to be. |
| Lord Alfred Tennyson | Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace. |
| Lord Alfred Tennyson | Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow. |
| Lord Alfred Tennyson | Ring out, will bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light. |
| Rose Hartwick Thorpe | Curfew must not ring to-night. |
| Samuel Rogers | And the Sabbath bell, That over wood and wild and mountain dell Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy With sounds most musical, most melancholy. |
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