Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE BELLS OF SAN GABRIEL, by CHARLES WARREN STODDARD First Line: Thine was the corn and the wine Last Line: Of gabriel, the archangel. Subject(s): Bells; California; Missions & Missionaries | ||||||||
THINE was the corn and the wine, The blood of the grape that nourished; The blossom and fruit of the vine That was heralded far away. These were thy gifts; and thine, When the vine and the fig-tree flourished, The promise of peace and of glad increase Forever and ever and aye. What then wert thou, and what art now? Answer me, O, I pray! And every note of every bell Sang Gabriel! rang Gabriel! In the tower that is left the tale to tell Of Gabriel, the Archangel. Oil of the olive was thine; Flood of the wine-press flowing; Blood o' the Christ was the wine Blood o' the Lamb that was slain. Thy gifts were fat o' the kine Forever coming and going Over the hills, the thousand hills, Their lowing a soft refrain. What then wert thou, and what art now? Answer me, once again! And every note of every bell Sang Gabriel! rang Gabriel! In the tower that is left the tale to tell Of Gabriel, the Archangel. Seed o' the corn was thine Body of Him thus broken And mingled with blood o' the vine The bread and the wine of life; Out of the good sunshine They were given to thee as a token The body of Him, and the blood of Him, When the gifts of God were rife. What then wert thou, and what art now, After the weary strife? And every note of every bell Sang Gabriel! rang Gabriel! In the tower that is left the tale to tell Of Gabriel, the Archangel. Where are they now, O bells? Where are the fruits o' the Mission? Garnered, where no one dwells Shepherd and flock are fled. O'er the Lord's vineyard swells The tide that with fell perdition Sounded their doom and fashioned their tomb And buried them with the dead. What then wert thou, and what art now? The answer is still unsaid. And every note of every bell Sang Gabriel! rang Gabriel! In the tower that is left the tale to tell Of Gabriel, the Archangel. Where are they now, O tower! The locusts and wild honey? Where is the sacred dower That the bride of Christ was given? Gone to the builders of power, The misers and minters of money; Gone for the greed that is their creed And these in the land have thriven. What then wert thou, and what art now, And wherefore hast thou striven? And every note of every bell Sang Gabriel! rang Gabriel! In the tower that is left the tale to tell Of Gabriel, the Archangel. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE ENGLISH GRAVEYARD IN MALACCA by KAREN SWENSON THE FOREIGN VOLUNTEERS AT MOTHER TERESA'S by KAREN SWENSON EPITAPH ON HENRY MARTYN by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY THE CAPTURE OF LUCKNOW by WILLIAM MCGONAGALL FATHER LUCIEN GALTIER by HELEN LETHERT MEIER MORAVIAN MISSIONS by JAMES MONTGOMERY THE GENESIS OF A MISSIONARY by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS ALBATROSS by CHARLES WARREN STODDARD |
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