THE BELL OF ST. PAUL'S
"The great bell of St. Paul's, which only sounds when the King is dead."
Toll, toll, thou solemn bell!
A royal head lies low,
And mourners through the palace halls
Slowly and sadly go.
Lift up thine awful voice,
Thou, silent for so long!
Say that a monarch's soul has passed
To join the shadowy throng.
A royal head lies low,
And mourners through the palace halls
Slowly and sadly go.
Lift up thine awful voice,
Thou, silent for so long!
Say that a monarch's soul has passed
To join the shadowy throng.
Toll yet again, thou bell!
Mutely thine iron tongue,
Prisoned within yon lofty tower,
For many a year has hung.
But now its mournful peal
Startles a nation's ear,
And swells from listening shore to shore,
That the whole world may hear.
Mutely thine iron tongue,
Prisoned within yon lofty tower,
For many a year has hung.
But now its mournful peal
Startles a nation's ear,
And swells from listening shore to shore,
That the whole world may hear.
A whisper from the past
Blends with each solemn tone
That from those brazen lips of thine
Upon the air is thrown.
Never had trumpet's peal,
On clarion sounding shrill,
Such power as that deep undertone
The listener's heart to thrill,
Blends with each solemn tone
That from those brazen lips of thine
Upon the air is thrown.
Never had trumpet's peal,
On clarion sounding shrill,
Such power as that deep undertone
The listener's heart to thrill,
