WHAT say the Bells of San Blas | |
| To the ships that southward pass | |
| From the harbor of Mazatlan? | |
| To them it is nothing more | |
| Than the sound of surf on the shore,— | 5 |
| Nothing more to master or man. | |
| |
| But to me, a dreamer of dreams, | |
| To whom what is and what seems | |
| Are often one and the same,— | |
| The Bells of San Blas to me | 10 |
| Have a strange, wild melody, | |
| And are something more than a name. | |
| |
| For bells are the voice of the church; | |
| They have tones that touch and search | |
| The hearts of young and old; | 15 |
| One sound to all, yet each | |
| Lends a meaning to their speech, | |
| And the meaning is manifold. | |
| |
| They are a voice of the Past, | |
| Of an age that is fading fast, | 20 |
| Of a power austere and grand; | |
| When the flag of Spain unfurled | |
| Its folds o’er this western world, | |
| And the Priest was lord of the land. | |
| |
| The chapel that once looked down | 25 |
| On the little seaport town | |
| Has crumbled into the dust; | |
| And on oaken beams below | |
| The bells swing to and fro, | |
| And are green with mould and rust. | 30 |
| |
| “Is, then, the old faith dead,” | |
| They say, “and in its stead | |
| Is some new faith proclaimed, | |
| That we are forced to remain | |
| Naked to sun and rain, | 35 |
| Unsheltered and ashamed? | |
| |
| “Once in our tower aloof | |
| We rang over wall and roof | |
| Our warnings and our complaints; | |
| And round about us there | 40 |
| The white doves filled the air, | |
| Like the white souls of the saints. | |
| |
| “The saints! Ah, have they grown | |
| Forgetful of their own? | |
| Are they asleep, or dead, | 45 |
| That open to the sky | |
| Their ruined Missions lie, | |
| No longer tenanted? | |
| |
| “Oh, bring us back once more | |
| The vanished days of yore, | 50 |
| When the world with faith was filled; | |
| Bring back the fervid zeal, | |
| The hearts of fire and steel, | |
| The hands that believe and build. | |
| |
| “Then from our tower again | 55 |
| We will send over land and main | |
| Our voices of command, | |
| Like exiled kings who return | |
| To their thrones, and the people learn | |
| That the Priest is lord of the land!” | 60 |
| |
| O Bells of San Blas, in vain | |
| Ye call back the Past again! | |
| The Past is deaf to your prayer; | |
| Out of the shadows of night | |
| The world rolls into light; | 65 |
| It is daybreak everywhere. | |
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