BELLS OF VARENNA

Drowsy and sweet along the Larian Lake Your melody is stealing; Your fitful pealing Floats on the pinion of a summer night. Aloft the murmuring upland echoes wake And wing upon the mountains, Whence flying fountains Thin their wild whiteness out o’er many a height, Bells of Varenna, Bells of Varenna— Ancient bells, Solemn bells, Bells, Bells. A tall grey campanile and a spire Of russet red upspringing, Meet for your ringing, O most melodious, mediæval chime, Arise and point with fane of moonlight fire To forests and snow ridges And far-flung bridges And ruined castles of the olden time, Bells of Varenna, Bells of Varenna— Dulcet bells, Dreaming bells, Bells, Bells. Along a floor of crystal, where the moon, From her blue mansion bending, Awaits the sending Of your deep benison and soft “Good-night,” Canorous cadence comes. Too soon, too soon, Faint off the last far throbbing And silver sobbing By Como’s patined pathway, still and bright, Bells of Varenna, Bells of Varenna— Sleeping bells, Weary bells, Bells, Bells.