| THE SABBATH bells are ringing |  | 
 |   With clear and cheerful notes, |  | 
 | And from the steeple springing, |  | 
 |   Far off the music floats. |  | 
 |   | 
  | To yonder mountain reaches, |         5 | 
 |   The ever rising strain, |  | 
 | And Echo’s dying speeches |  | 
 |   Repeat it o’er again. |  | 
 |   | 
  | The summer woodlands filling, |  | 
 |   The solemn cadence rolls, |         10 | 
 | And through the leaves is thrilling |  | 
 |   Like soft, pulsating souls. |  | 
 |   | 
  | The air with rippling motion, |  | 
 |   Aeolian answer gives, |  | 
 | And like a trembling ocean, |         15 | 
 |   Its outspread bosom heaves. |  | 
 |   | 
  | The far horizon sweeping, |  | 
 |   Each tone majestic swells, |  | 
 | And all the world is leaping |  | 
 |   Beneath the sounding bells. |         20 | 
 |   | 
  | ’Tis solemn, yet ’tis cheerful, |  | 
 |   A clear and pleasant voice. |  | 
 | That bids the sad and tearful |  | 
 |   Be hopeful and rejoice. |  | 
 |   | 
  | Let Sabbath morns unclouded |         25 | 
 |   Still hear these tones of peace. |  | 
 | For earth with woe is shrouded |  | 
 |   When Sabbath bells shall cease. |  | 
|   |