Bega
Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall 1883 (Gunnersbury, London) – 1922 (Vancouver)
FROM the clouded belfry calling,
Hear my soft ascending swells;
Hear my notes like swallows falling;
I am Bega, least of bells.
When great Turkeful rolls and rings
All the storm-touched turret swings,
Echoing battle, loud and long.
When great Tatwin wakening roars
To the far-off shining shores,
All the seamen know his song.
I am Bega, least of bells:
In my throat my message swells.
I with all the winds a-thrill,
Murmuring softly, murmuring still,
'God around me, God above me,
God to guard me, God to love me.'
I am Bega, least of bells,
Weaving wonder, wind-born spells.
High above the morning mist,
Wreathed in rose and amethyst,
Still the dreams of music float
Silver from my silver throat,
Whispering beauty, whispering peace.
When great Tatwin's golden voice
Bids the listening land rejoice,
When great Turkeful rings and rolls
Thunder down to trembling souls,
Then my notes like curlews flying,
Lifting, falling, sinking, sighing,
Softly answer, softly cease.
I with all the airs at play
Murmuring sweetly, murmuring say,
'God around me, God above me,
God to guard me, God to love me.'
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Submitted on May 13, 2011
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 56 sec read
- 64 Views
Quick analysis:
Scheme | abaBccdeedBbffGG Bbhhiijkk llaajmmGG |
---|---|
Closest metre | Iambic tetrameter |
Characters | 1,072 |
Words | 189 |
Stanzas | 3 |
Stanza Lengths | 16, 9, 9 |
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"Bega" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/26406/bega>.
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