Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1856-03-22
Prom the Cincinnati Gazette.
THOSE EVENING BELLS.

"Those evening bells-those evening bells,
How many at their music tells
Of youth and home and native cline,
When l last heard tEelr soothing chime,
"Those pleasant hours have passed away,
And many a heart that then was gay,
Within the tomb now darkly dwells,
And hears no more those evening bells.
And so twill be when l am gone;
That %tuneful peal will still 60 on,
When other bards shall walk these dells.
And sing your praise, "spcet evening bells"
Such are the associations which the ringing OF
bells bring to my recollectiops, said Moore" when
giving to his friends a description of the st. Mary's
bells ringing in Limerick, ireland.
PARTICULARS"
The Bells of St. Mary's, Limerick, we're origin
ally brought from Italy; they had been manufac-
tured by a young native (whose name the tradition
has moi preserved, and finished after the tolls of
many years; and he prided himself upon his work.
They were consequently purchased by the Prior of
q neighboriDg convent; and with the profits of this
sale the young Italian procured a little villa, where
he had the pleasure of hearing the tolllng 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 undying wound IN the heart of a fallen land
the good italian" was q 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 'the master piece of his skill"
were hung, was RACED to the earth, and those last
carried away into another lard.
The unfortunate owner, haunted by his memo
ries, and deserted by his hopes, became a wander
err over Europe. His hair grew gray, and his heart
withercd before he again found a homo OF a friend.
In this desolation 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 no hired q
small boat for the purpose Of landing.
The city was now before him; and he beheld st.
Mary's steeple, lifting its turreted head above the
smoke and mists of the Old Town.. lie sat in the
stern, and looked fondly towards it. 1t was an
evening 80 calm aud beautiful as TO remind him of
his own native haven in the sweetest time of the
year-the death of Spring. The broad stream ap-
peared like one smooth mirror, and the little vessel
glided through it with almost a noiseless exhibi.
ton.
On a Sudden, mid 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 received. The old Italian looked
towards the city, crossed his arms on his breast,
an lay back in his seat. Home, happiness, early
recollections. friends, family all were in the
sound" and went with it to his heart.
When the rowers turned round they beheld him
with his face still turned toward the Cathedral; but
his eyes were closed, and when they landed-they
found him cold and dead.