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Bells in the Rain

by
 Sleep falls, with limpid drops of rain, 
Upon the steep cliffs of the town.
Sleep falls; men are at peace again While the small drops fall softly down.
The bright drops ring like bells of glass Thinned by the wind, and lightly blown; Sleep cannot fall on peaceful grass So softly as it falls on stone.
Peace falls unheeded on the dead Asleep; they have had deep peace to drink; Upon a live man's bloody head It falls most tenderly, I think.

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