<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=364157" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Week-Night Service</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The five old bells<br>Are hurrying and eagerly calling, <br>Imploring, protesting <br>They know, but clamorously falling <br>Into gabbling incoherence, never resting,<br>Like spattering showers from a bursten sky-rocket dropping<br>In splashes of sound, endlessly, never stopping.<br> <br>The silver moon <br>That somebody has spun so high <br>To settle the question, yes or no, has caught <br>In the net of the night’s balloon, <br>And sits with a smooth bland smile up there in the sky<br>Smiling at naught, <br>Unless the winking star that keeps her company<br>Makes little jests at the bells’ insanity,<br>As if he knew aught! <br> <br>The patient Night <br>Sits indifferent, hugged in her rags, <br>She neither knows nor cares <br>Why the old church sobs and brags;<br>The light distresses her eyes, and tears<br>Her old blue cloak, as she crouches and covers her face,<br>Smiling, perhaps, if we knew it, at the bells’ loud clattering disgrace.<br> <br>The wise old trees <br>Drop their leaves with a faint, sharp hiss of contempt,<br>While a car at the end of the street goes by with a laugh;<br>As by degrees <br>The poor bells cease, and the Night is exempt, <br>And the stars can chaff <br>The ironic moon at their ease, while the dim old church<br>Is peopled with shadows and sounds and ghosts that lurch<br>In its cenotaph.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Herbert+Lawrence">David Herbert Lawrence</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=364157" data-title="Week-Night Service de David Herbert Lawrence" data-description="The five old bells Are hurrying and eagerly calling, Imploring, protesting They know, but clamorously falling Into gabbling incoherence, never resting, Like spattering showers from a bursten sky-rocket dropping In splashes of sound, endlessly, ..."></div> </div> </div>

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