The Salem Bell

The Salem Bell

Oft in memory, I faintly hear,
A sound so mournful, I shed a tear,
Across time and space, the recurring knell,
The haunting tones, of the Salem Bell.

When first I heard, its melancholy toll,
Entering my heart, and stirring my soul,
Is not in memory, and I cannot tell,
The first haunting toll, of the Salem Bell.

On a rocky knoll, stood the Salem Church,
Secluded in the forest, of ash, oak and birch,
Awaiting the day, when the Sabbath fell,
To herald its coming, with the Salem Bell.

Not only on Sunday, did I hear the sound,
When one passed on, the tolling did abound,
To reveal the passing, then the years to tell,
With the fateful ringing, of the Salem Bell.

I know not why, my heart was stirred,
Or in my soul, loneliness occurred,
At every instance, and doleful knell,
Of the distant ringing, of the Salem Bell.

Yet in my memory, I hear the toll,
Evoking emotions, stirring my soul,
And of my destiny? Time will tell,
Perhaps by the ringing, of the Salem Bell.
By Richard Paden ©2004