In summertime on Bredon
The bells they sound so clear;
Round both the shires they ring them
In steeples far and near,
A happy noise to hear.
Here of a Sunday morning
My love and I would lie,
And see the coloured counties,
And hear the larks so high
About us in the sky.
The bells would ring to call her
In valleys miles away:
'Come all to church, good people;
Good people, come and pray.
But here my love would stay.
And I would turn and answer
Among the springing thyme,
'Oh, peal upon our wedding,
And we will hear the chime,
And come to church in time.
But when the snows at Christmas
On Bredon top were strewn,
My love rose up so early
And stole out unbeknown
And went to church alone.
They tolled the one bell only,
Groom there was none to see,
The mourners followed after,
And so to church went she,
And would not wait for me.
The bells they sound on Bredon,
And still the steeples hum.
'Come all to church, good people,' -
Oh, noisy bells, be dumb;
I hear you, I will come.
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Comments
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Oh, I think that "Pari Ali"s conclusion of this poem is a total misreading. As we can see the narrator and his lover were going to be married, however, before they heard their wedding bells, he heard the funeral bell for his beloved....a most powerful and poignant poem.
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Superb!
Ineffably beautiful and profoundly sad! -
A friend sent me an excerpt from this today and I had to find and read the entire poem.
Two people lost in love and each other ignoring the call to church and prayer, their wish to be with each other so strong that they do not heed any other call or duty.
The girls death I felt was presented by the poet as Divine Vengeance, which I find hard to accept.
The end has the poet say
Oh, noisy bells, be dumb;
I hear you, I will come.
there is no respect in his words and they show a kind of impietry and reluctance too. A reflection of many who pray because they feel they have to or something bad might happen.
more out of superstition than devotion.
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