Page:Sassoon, Siegfried - Counter-Attack and Other Poems (1918).djvu/68

 your sweet bells; but let them be farewells
 * To the green-vista'd gladness of the past

That changed us into soldiers; swing your bells
 * To a joyful chime; but let it be the last.

What means this metal in windy belfries hung
 * When guns are all our need? Dissolve these bells

Whose tones are tuned for peace: with martial tongue
 * Let them cry doom and storm the sun with shells.

Bells are like fierce-browed prelates who proclaim
 * That "if our Lord returned He'd fight for us."

So let our bells and bishops do the same,
 * Shoulder to shoulder with the motor bus.