The Broken Bell
'Tis bitter-sweet on winter nights to note,
Beside the palpitating fire reclined,
The chimes, across the fogs, upon the wind.
Now loud, now low, now near and now remote.
What recollections on that music float!
Blessed the bell that through the darkness blind
Sends honest greetings, consolations kind.
And solemn warnings from its lusty throat
Tis like a wakeful soldier, - mine, alas!
The soul-bell in me, can but give one cry,
Like that, a wounded soldier - o'er whom pass
Riders and horses, and around whom lie
The dead and dying in a tangled mass -
Utters, unable or to move or die.
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Comments about this poem (The Broken Bell by Toru Dutt )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
- Naveed Khalid
(1 January 1903 - 13 March 1976)
Sir Walter Scott
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
- Christmas Trees, Robert Frost
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Exposure, Wilfred Owen
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Ring Out , Wild Bells, Alfred Lord Tennyson
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
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