Hark! the bonny Christ-Church bells, One, two, three, four, five, six; They sound so woundy great, So wound'rous sweet, And they troul so merrily.

The bells themselves are the best of preachers, Their brazen lips are learned teachers, From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air, Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw, Shriller than trumpets under the Law, Now a sermon and now a prayer.

It cometh into court and pleads the cause Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws; And this shall make, in every Christian clime, The bell of Atri famous for all time. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow,

Bell, thou soundest merrily, When the bridal party To the church doth hie! Bell, thou soundest solemnly, When, on Sabbath morning, Fields deserted lie!

These bells have been anointed, And baptized with holy water!

For bells are the voice of the church; They have tones that touch and search The hearts of young and old.