Xxi

When the bell sounds Over land and sea, And the wind, in its rounds, Blowing fresh and free, Carries the ringing Far out of sight, There where the clinging Sails are white, White on the sea; And over the hills.

How far does the sound Of the sweet bell go? Over the round Where the waters flow, And up to the bound Where the winds can blow. Is it lost, is it found, Is it gone, do you know?

Nonsense Rhymes