Thomas Love Peacock

(1785 - 1866 / England)

Duet - Poem by Thomas Love Peacock


All my troubles disappear,
When the dinner-bell I hear,
Over woodland, dale, and fell,
Swinging slow with solemn swell,---
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!


What can bid my heart-ache fly?
What can bid my heart-ache die?
What can all the ills dispel,
In my morbid frame that dwell?
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!


Hark!---along the tangled ground,
Loudly floats the pleasing sound!
Sportive Fauns to Dryads tell,
'Tis the cheerful dinner-bell!
The dinner-bell! the dinner-bell!

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Read poems about / on: heart

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

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