The weekly Minnesotian. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1852-1858, 1856-04-12
From the Cincinnati Gazette.
Those Evening Bells.

+" Ihose evening bells--those evening bells,
How many a tale their music tells
@oI yourn, ana home and native cline,
Wnen last heard their soothing chime,
6 Those pleasant hours have passed avav
And many heart that then was CAV 49,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells
And hears no more those evening bells.
&C And so ,twl be when am gone:
That tuneful peal will still ring on,
When other bards shall walk those deils, -
. And sing your praises, sUeet evening bclls.,,,
Such are the associations which the ring
ing of bells bring to my recollection, said
" Moore. when giving to his friends des-
cription of the st. Mary's bells ringing in
Limerick, Ireland.
.->rt1 PARTICULARS"
The Bells of st. Mary's Limerick, were
originally brought from Italy /; they had been
manufactured by young native (whose
name the tradition has not preseryed,) and
finished after the tolls of many years and
he prided himself upon his work They
were consequently purchased by the Prior of
a neighborlng convent and with the profits
of this sale the young Italian procured lit
tie villa, where he had the pleasure of hear
ing the tolng of his bells from the convent
cliff and of growing old in the bosom of
domestic happiness.
This however, was not to continue In
some of those broils, whether civil or foreign,
which are the undylng wotnd in the heart of
a foreign land, the good ''Italian" was
sufferer amongst many. He lost his all and
after the passing of the storm, found himself
preserved alone amid the wreck of fortune,
friends, family and home. The Convent in
which the bells, the masterpiece of his
Skill, were hung, was RACED to the earth,
and these last carried away into another
! land. /'-
The unfortunate owner, haunted by his
memories and deserted by his hopes, became
a wanderer over Europe. His hair grew
gray, and his heart withered before he again
found home or friend. In this desofatiofi
OF spirit, he formed a resolution of seeking
the place to which those treasures to his
memory had been finally borne. He sailed
for Ireland; proceeded up the Shannon the
vessel anchored in the pool near Limerick,
and he hired small boat for the purpose Of
landing.
The city was now before him and he be-
held St. Mary's steeple, lifting its turreted
head above the smoke and mist of the Old
Town. He sat in the stern, and looked
fondly towards it. 1t was an evening SO
calm and beautiful as to remind him of his
own native haven in the sweetest time of the
year-thc death of Spring. The broad
stream appeared like one smooth mirror. and
the little vessel glided through it with almost
a noseless exhibition.
| On sudden, amid the general stiffness,
the bells tolled from the Cathedral : the
rowers rested on their oars, and the vessel
went forward with the impulse it had re-
ceiyed The old Italian looked towards the
city, crossed his arms on his breast, and lay
back in his seat. Home, happiness, early
recollectlons, friends, family-all were in the
sound, and went with it to his heart.
When the rowers turned round they be-.
held him with his face still turned toward
the Cathedral but his eyes were closed,
and when they landed-they found him cold
and dead.