And well he knew the spire of Sarum; And he had been where Lincoln bell Flings o'er the fen that ponderous knell A far-renowned alarum.

Calls forth the woodman with its cheerful knell.

O, speak not of it, Marriage sounds in mine ear like a bell, Not rung for pleasure, but a doleful knell.

H. Wind once more, jolly huntsmen, all your horns; Whose shrill sound, with the echoing wood's assist, Shall ring a sad knell for the fearful deer, Before our feathered shafts, death's winged darts, Bring sudden summons for their fatal ends.

Every dusky spire is ringing With a dull and hollow knell, And the Miserere's singing To the tolling of the bell.

Through storm-cloud and eclipse must move Each Cause and Man, dear to the stars and Jove; Nor always can the wisest tell Deferred fulfillment from the hopeless knell The struggler from the floundering ne'er-do-well.

For e'en in song man still reveals His ancient fear, a mournful knell; Like one who dreams of home, but feels The bonds of an old prison cell.

And forth from the chapel door he went Into disgrace and banishment, Clothed in a cloak of hodden gray, And bearing a wallet, and a bell, Whose sound should be a perpetual knell To keep all travelers away.

Within me responds To the dismal knell; Shadows are trailing, My heart is bewailing And tolling within Like a funeral bell.

She staggered through the town, arrived in the solitary fields, heard the distant knell announce her lover's death, and sunk exhausted to the ground.

and now the distant bell (For deep and pensive thought had held her there) Toll'd midnight out, with long resounding knell, While dismal echoes quiver'd in the air.