| LAST BUT NOT LEAST BELL VERSE |
| How Do I Pluck Thee? by Anonymous (with apologies to Elizabeth Barrett Browning) How do I pluck thee? Let me count the ways. I pluck thee to the depth and rim and point My thumb can reach, when feeling out of joint From the scores of measures with eighth note runs. I pluck thee at the moment of everyone's most quiet rest, by lamp and candlelight. I pluck thee quickly, as choirs ring with might; I pluck thee firmly, as they peal out praise. I pluck thee with a gusto put to use In my old gloves, and with my neighbor's glare. I pluck thee with a pluck I seemed to lose From several beats,-- I pluck thee with the stare, Sneers, jeers, of directors!--And, if God choose, I shall but pluck thee again with flair. |
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| A Song for Four-in-Hand by Anonymous (with apologies to Walt Whitman) A song for four-in-hand! You talented ringers sure and strong! You in the chancel spotlight, and on all the benches and cushions at the Chancel railing! You master musicians and ding-a-lings! You belles! You twelve! And all processions moving along the aisles! I wish to infuse myself among you till I see it normal for you to ring SIX-in-hand! (The original title of Whitman's poem was "A Leaf for Hand in Hand.") |
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