Silver Bells

Silver Bells

A Petrarchan Sonnet by Petronilla de Chastelerault

As I awoke to winter’s morning glow

Glist’ning upon the stately, looming towers,

And on the last of autumn’s shining flowers,

And on the far-off mountains capped with snow,

The rosy dawn broke, with the day in tow.

And by some strange, unnamed higher power,

Upon my ears, a sound like April showers,

A silver bell, whose peals were sorrow’s foe.

For farmers and their wives, joy lives in me,

For monks and hermits in their lonely cells,

And for the nobles, living blissfully,

And for the kings, who rule the fertile dells,

And there is joy within my heart for he

Whose winter season’s marked by silver bells.