The Old Church Bell.

It hangs today where it has hung for fifty years or more,     But some who loved its silver tones the church-yard covers o'er,     And many are the times since then, with deep and solemn knell,     Has tolled for dear departed ones the                                     Old                                         Church                                              Bell!     Within a latticed tower it swings, high up above the street,     And every Sabbath morn is heard the music clear and sweet     Which floats above the village roofs, and over hill and dell,     Upborne upon the vagrant wind, from the                                     Old                                         Church                                              Bell!     Full many a change the hand of Time has in the village wrought,     And passing years have often been with grief and anguish fraught,     Yet age has never changed its tones, and years cannot dispel     The magic of the music from the                                     Old                                         Church                                              Bell!     Since it was placed within the tower, in days of long ago,     The tempests wild have round it raved, and many a driven snow     Has sifted through the slats up there, and mantled as it fell     In robes of white its dwelling place, and the                                     Old                                         Church                                              Bell!     Though gone from earth and earthly things--forever passed away--     The faithful ones who loved while here its summons to obey     Now rest beyond the tide of Time, with rapture long to dwell,     For there their footsteps guided were by the                                     Old                                         Church                                              Bell!