The scent of her dishes wafted in
And hunger bent me o'er my book,
I could hear the kitchen clappin'
And the swan song of my beloved cook -
The plates are jingling, oh mama dear!
Aren't my best thoughts 'bout you?
And the dishes were tinkling, tinkling still
My dream segued to a cruel call of a bell.
I'd heard rueful howlings of April winds,
Seen broken rainbows in the horizon,
Sullen clouds chairing the wide heavens
And rain giving joy to weary students;
But why, dear child o' mine, say farewell
When sweet time rings like temple's bell?
It is joyful to hear the church bell ring,
Not of the funeral's bell sadly tolling.