Passing Bells
O# Time! you steal the swift days from us, and once more You hover, like a grim hawk, o’er the year that dies. The last day wanes in silence, and the golden store Of full, rich hours glides far into the empty skies. Oh, night of-many memories! How calm you are, how still! And yet in thy grey silence there is misty pain and tears. I watch the darkness creep, a phantom, from the hill, And all the time I hear the wailing of the years. My glad, glad days!’ They vanish as a mist away. Loved hours, loved joys, loved faces, pass into the night. Oh! now the year is dead! Glad bells ring in the day..-. Ma heart is dark with tears... but in the East is Light!
BASBLEU
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/RADREC19310109.2.79
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Radio Record, Volume IV, Issue 26, 9 January 1931, Unnumbered Page
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133Passing Bells Radio Record, Volume IV, Issue 26, 9 January 1931, Unnumbered Page
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