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 VICTORY BELLS

BY GRACE HAZARD CONKLING

(November 11, 1918)

the bells across the trees,

I heard them ride the plunging breeze

Above the roofs from tower and spire.

And they were leaping like a fire,

And they were shining like a stream

With sun to make its music gleam.

Deep tones as though the thunder tolled,

Cool voices thin as tinkling gold,

They shook the spangled autumn down

From out the tree-tops of the town;

They left great furrows in the air

And made a clangor everywhere

As of metallic wings. They flew

Aloft in spirals to the blue

Tall tent of heaven and disappeared.

And others, swift as though they feared

The people might not heed their cry

Went shouting VICTORY up the sky.

They did not say that war is done,

Only that glory has begun

Like sunrise, and the coming day

Will burn the clouds of war away.