Bell Hill
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A Feast of Lanterns, by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1916], at sacred-texts.com
BELL HILL
In the ravine the water wanders through;
Soundless it laps the stems of tall bamboo.
Westward a tiny strip of green all scrolled
With fairy pennons flaunting, red and gold.
Oh rare! Oh delicate is spring!
Thatched roofs face one another. All day long
Silent I dream. No bird breaks into song,
The very hills are slumbering.
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