Foxgloves

The foxglove bells, with lolling tongue,
Will not reveal what peals were rung
In Faery, in Faery,
A thousand ages gone.

All the golden clappers hang
As if but now the changes rang;
Only from the mottled throat
Never any echoes float.

Quite forgotten, in the wood,
Pale, crowded steeples rise;
All the time that they have stood
None has heard their melodies.

Deep, deep in wizardry
All the foxglove belfries stand.
Should they startle over the land,
None would know what bells they be.

Never any wind can ring them,
Nor the great black bees that swing them
Ev'ry crimson bell, down-slanted,
Is so utterly enchanted.

The foxglove bells, with lolling tongue,
Will not reveal what peals were rung
In Faery, in Faery,
A thousand ages gone.

Authorship

by Mary Gladys Meredith Webb (1881-1927) , "Foxgloves", from Poems and The Spring of Joy, published 1928

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)

by Michael (Dewar) Head (1900-1976) , "Foxgloves", 1932, published 1933 [voice and piano or string quartet], from More Songs of the Countryside, no. 1.

Text added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.

Notes about green, red, and white dots

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