|Grocott & Ward, comps. Grocotts Familiar Quotations, 6th ed. 189-?.|
|Your voices break and falter in the darkness,|
Break, falter, and are still.
Bret Harte.The Angelus, Last Stanza.
|Can the tolling of the Old South bell be painted?|
Hawthorne.American Note-Books. Salem, September 14, 1841.
|When oer the street the morning peal is flung|
From yon tall belfry with the brazen tongue,
Its wide vibrations, wafted by the gale,
To each far listener tell a different tale.
|Those dumb mouths that have no speech,|
Only a cry from each to each,
In its own kind, with its own laws;
Something that is beyond the reach
Of human power to learn or teach,
An inarticulate moan of pain,
Like the immeasurable main
Breaking upon an unknown beach.
Longfellow.Tales of a Wayside Inn: The Bell of Atri, Interlude, Line 2.