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Bell Birds


By channels of coolness the echoes are calling,
And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling;
It lives in the mountain, where moss and the sedges
Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges:
Through breaks of the cedar and sycamore bowers
Struggles the light that is love to the flowers,
And softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing,
The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing.
The silver voiced bell-birds, the darlings of day-time,
They sing in September their songs of the May-time.
When shadows wax strong, and the thunder bolts hurtle,
They hide with their fear in the leaves of the myrtle;
When rain and the sunbeams shine mingled together,
They start up like fairies that follow fair weather,
And straightway the hues of the feathers unfolden
And the green and the purple, the blue and the golden.

October, the maiden of bright yellow tresses,
Loiters for love in these cool windernesses,
Loiters knee-deep in the grasses to listen,
Where dripping rocks gleam and the leafy pools glisten.
Then is the time when the water-moons splendid
Break with their gold, and are scattered or blended
Over the creeks, till the woodlands have warning
Of songs of the bell-bird and wings of the morning.

Welcome as waters, unkissed by the summers
Are the voices of bell-birds to thirsty far-comers.
When fiery December sets foot in the forest,
And the need of the wayfarer presses the sorest,
Pent in the ridges for ever and ever,
The bell-birds, direct him to spring and to river,
With ring and with ripple, like runnels whose torrents
Are turned by the pebbles and leaves in the currents.

Often I sit looking back to a childhood
Mixt with the sights and the sounds of the wildwood,
Longing for power and the sweetness to fashion
Lyrics with beats like the heart-beats of passion —
Songs interwoven of lights and of laughters
Borrowed from bell-birds in far forest rafters;
So I might keep in the city and alleys
The beauty and strengths of the deep mountain valleys,
Charming to slumber the pain of my losses
With glimpses of creeks and a vision of mosses.

Listen to the bird
home.iprimus.com.au/punkclown/Punkclown/Bellbird.htm

Notes

Bellbirds by Henry Kendall is one of Australia's best loved poems, and almost every Australian has at one time or another heard or repeated its melodic phrases, so evocative of the cool, dim blue and green of the Australian mountain country. This poem was first published in a work entitled "Leaves from Australian Forests" by Henry Kendall in the year of 1869.
The bellbird itself is a very small greyish bird. Its call or melody is simply one singular chiming note which seems to ring through their environmental habitat - the mountains and their foothills of Eastern Australia. They may be heard clearly in the quietness of the mountains and hills, although are rarely seen, unless an attitude of patience is adopted.
It is clear that to Henry Kendall, the mountains were a place of refuge and beauty. The Australian mountains are concentrated in a reasonable narrow band known as the "Great Dividing Range" which runs from the tip of Cape York in the north, down the eastern coast - over 3000 kms - through the Snowy and all the way to the Dandenongs in Victoria, and no doubt the same range extends under the Bass Straight and down into the wilderness areas of Tasmania.

The nature of the mountain lands is captured here in the poetry of Henry Kendall and it is equally clear that this nature is not restricted to Australia, but extends to all the planetary mountain lands and the refuges they afford to those who would journey therein in search of peace, harmony and the chance to experience the natural world.

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Comments

1 - 8 of 8
  • rbruce
    February 11

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    Favorite for many years

    My introduction to 'Bell Birds" was at primary school in the late 1930's. It has remained a favorite throughout my life. It has a magic musical quality to it that I think is unsurpassed by anyone.

  • Elisabeth
    December 15, 2007
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    I have heard the little Bell Bird,

    I have heard it in the Blue Mountains, west of Sydney, it truly is one of Nature's finest creations. Henry Kendall was tuned to the land around him and the poetry around him that he became a quite solitary and maybe a rather sad man, dying at a rather young age. He left Australia a magnificent treasury of work.


  • November 22, 2007
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    My most favourite poem of all

    From guest Cathy (contact)
    I am delighted to see this poem after a quick internet search. I realise how priviledged I am to have grown up in South-eastern Australia and to have heard this most exquisite of birds, singing in the misty, eucalypt forests. This poem evokes for me not only images of the bush the bellbird inhabits, but also the feelings of the bush. When I read the poem, there I am once more, listening with hushed and reverent attention, transported beyond space and time.


    • rufina caraid Moderators member
      November 22, 2007
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      for guest Cathy - I enjoyed reading your description of the wonderful Australian bird. I made comment on this poem nearly 3 years ago (below) and it's power to beguile and relax me has never waned. My son is leaving Australia today for a while and I found a greeting card with the song of the Bell bird and he is taking it with him - to remind him of home. I'm glad you made comment today, this poem has helped to ease my anxiety. Regards, Vonnie Oldpoetry


  • June 15, 2007
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    From guest debilynn (contact)
    this poem is beautiful ! tinkling streams, streams of dappled sunlight and the trees full of bird song, images and sounds the writer takes with him on his return to the city and remembers them. images imbedded in the readers' mind. this very descriptive write is a true delight to read.

  • Wangigirl
    November 27, 2005
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    I learned this poem as a child in my Australian school - and I have always loved it. Then, for forty-five years I lived inland, away from the coastal forests where the bellbird lives.

    A year ago I returned to to the coast, and my joy at hearing the bellbirds again was unbounded. It brought this poem back to me, and I have been trying to remember the words.

    Forest clearing and growth of housing around here will gradually force out the bellbirds, and that is a terrible shame. But for now I can still listen to them, very close to the city, and even when I can no longer hear them, I will have this poem to remember them.

    I am so pleased to see Henry Kendall's poem featured on this site.

  • Willow
    June 20, 2005
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    I believe that I may have to put this poem on my Oldpoetry favs also. Not only did the Bell Birds sing with clarity, the whole of the poem rang with it. Lovely images that I wish to see some day...

    Willow

  • Touchof1der
    January 18, 2005
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    So many of the old poets had such a romantic flair that seem to become entwined in so many of their works. I think the imagery here really sets that off. I'm so glad to have found this here.
    ♥ Kimberly

  • pattyann4500
    January 11, 2005
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    This is a lovely poem. It makes me recall a few things from my childhood, especially the babbling brookd and early morning sunbeams through the trees. Vivid and aesthetic. Hugs, Patricia


  • rufina caraid Moderators member
    January 11, 2005
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    This particular little bird may be heard in the Australian forests. It is the most beautiful sound: go to:
    home.iprimus.com.au/punkclown/Punkclown/Bellbird.htm
    so that you may hear it.

    The poem is a as beautiful and the sights and sounds one can experience in the Forests. Kendall has described so vividly so many places I could perhaps put a name too. Tinkling streams,streams of dappled sunlight and the trees full of bird song, images and sounds the writer takes with him on his return to the city and remembers them.

    Beautiful poem, one of his best known in Australia.
    Superb!
    ~~Von~~

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