Elizabeth Barrett Browning — Rhyme Of The Duchess May

I. To the belfry, one by one, went the ringers from the sun,        &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbspToll slowly. And the oldest ringer said, "Ours is music for the dead        &nbsp       &nbspWhen the rebecks are all done." II. Six abeles i' the churchyard grow on the north side in a row,        &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbspToll slowly. And the shadows of their tops rock across the little slopes        &nbsp       &nbspOf the grassy graves below. III. On the south side and the west a small river runs in haste,        &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbspToll slowly. And, between the river flowing and the fair green trees a-growing,        &nbsp       &nbspDo the dead lie at their rest. IV. On the east I sate that day, up against a willow grey:        &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbspToll slowly. Through the rain of willow-branches I could see the low hill-ranges        &nbsp       &nbspAnd the river on its way. V. There I sate beneath the tree, and the bell tolled solemnly,        &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbspToll slowly. While the trees' and river's voices flowed between the solemn noises,—        &nbsp       &nbspYet death seemed more loud to me. VI. There I read this ancient rhyme while the bell did all the time        &nbsp       &nbsp       &nbspToll slowly. And the solemn knell fell in with the tale of life and sin,        &nbsp       &nbspLike a rhythmic fate sublime.