Bells. II

Bells are but Clay that men refine
And rais from duller Ore;
Yet now, as if they were divine,
They call whole Cities to adore;
Exalted into Steeples they
Disperse their Sound, & from on high
Chime-in our Souls; they ev'ry way
Speak to us throu the Sky:
Their iron Tongues
Do utter Songs,
And shall our stony Hearts make no Reply!

From darker Mines & earthy Caves
At last let Souls awake,
And leaving their obscurer Graves
From lifeless Bells example take;
Lifted abov all earthly Cares,
et them (like these) rais'd up on high,
Forsaking all the baser Wares
Of dull Mortality,
His Praises sing,
Tunably ring,
In a less Distance from the peaceful Sky.

From Clay, & Mire, & Dirt, my Soul,
From vile & common Ore,
Thou must ascend; taught by the Toll
In what fit place thou mayst adore;
Refin'd by fire thou shalt a Bell
Of Prais becom, in Mettal pure;
In Purity thou must excell,
No Soil or Grit endure.
Refin'd by Lov,
Thou still abov
Like them must dwell, & other Souls allure.

Doth not each trembling Sound I hear
Make all my Spirits dance?
Each Stroak's a Message to my Ear
That casts my Soul into a Trance
Of Joy: They're us'd to notify
Religious Triumphs, & proclaim
The Peace of Christianity,
In Jesus holy Name.
Authorities:
And Victories
Protect, increas, enrich, adorn the same.

Kings, O my Soul, & Princes now
Do prais His holy Name,
Their golden Crowns & Scepters bow
In Honor of my Lord: His Fame
Is gon throu-out the World, who dy'd
Upon the Cross for me: And He
That once was basely crucify'd
Is own'd a Deity.
The Higher Powers
Hav built these Towers
Which here aspiring to the Sky we see.

Those Bells are of a piece, & found,
Whose wider mouths declare
Our Duty to us: Being round
And smooth & whole, no Splinters are
In them, no Cracks, nor holes, nor flaws
That may let out the Spirits thence
Too soon; that would harsh Jarring caus
And lose their Influence.
We must unite
If we Delight
Would yield or feel, or any Excellence.