CHURCH BELL MOTTOES
At dawn the rustic to his toil I call; To grateful rest when shades of eve ning fall. * # * Come to serve God or not at all.
I ring to sermon with a lusty boome, That all may come and none may stay at home.
i? * # When men in Hymen's bonds unite, Our merry peals produce delight. But when death goes Ills weary rounds, We send forth sad and solemn sounds.
Would men like me join and agree, They’d live in tuneful harmony.
Untouched am silent; strike me and I will sing sweetly. * * *
Should battle rage and sanguine foes contend, We hail the victor when he’s Britain's friend.
Pull on, brave boys; I’m metal to the back, And will be hanged before I crack.
Mankind, like us, too oft are found Possessed of nought but empty sound,
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/NEM19330215.2.17
Bibliographic details
Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXVI, 15 February 1933, Page 2
Word Count
139CHURCH BELL MOTTOES Nelson Evening Mail, Volume LXVI, 15 February 1933, Page 2
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