The first bell is silver, br And breathing darkness I think only of the long scythe of time. br The second bell is crimson, br And I think of a holiday night, with rockets br Furrowing the sky with red, and a soft shatter of stars. br The third bell is saffron and slow, br And I behold a long sunset over the sea br With wall on wall of castled cloud and glittering balustrades. br The fourth bell is color of bronze, br I walk by a frozen lake in the dun light of dusk: br Muffled crackings run in the ice, br Trees creak, birds fly. br The fifth bell is cold clear azure, br Delicately tinged with green: br One golden star hangs melting in it, br And towards this, sleepily, I go. br The sixth bell is as if a pebble br Had been dropped into a deep sea far above me . . . br Rings of sound ebb slowly into the silence.