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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SUNDAY CHIMES IN THE CITY, by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography
First Line: Across the bridge, where in the morning blow
Last Line: Deploys her white and steady wing, alone.
Subject(s): Bells; Churches; London; Cathedrals
First Line: Across the bridge, where in the morning blow
Last Line: Deploys her white and steady wing, alone.
Subject(s): Bells; Churches; London; Cathedrals
ACROSS the bridge, where in the morning blow
The wrinkled tide turns homeward, and is fain
Homeward to drag the black sea-goer's chain,
And the long yards by Dowgate dipping low;
Across dispeopled ways, patient and slow,
Saint Magnus and Saint Dunstan call in vain:
From Wren's forgotten belfries, in the rain,
Down the blank wharves the dropping octaves go.
Forbid not these! Tho' no man heed, they shower
A subtle beauty on the empty hour,
From all their dark throats aching and out-blown;
Aye in the prayerless places welcome most,
Like the last gull that up a naked coast
Deploys her white and steady wing, alone.
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