And every note of every bell
  Sang Gabriel! rang Gabriel!
  In the tower that is left the tale to tell
  Of Gabriel, the Archangel.

Seed of the corn was thine—
  Body of Him thus broken
And mingled with blood of the vine—
  The bread and the wine of life.
Out of the good sunshine
  They were given to thee as a token—
The body of Him, and the blood of Him,
  When the gifts of God were rife.
What then wert thou, and what art now?
  After the weary strife?

  And every note of every bell
  Sang Gabriel! rang Gabriel!
  In the tower that is left the tale to tell
  Of Gabriel the Archangel.

Where are they now, O bells?
  Where are the fruits of the Mission?
Garnered, where no one dwells,
  Shepherd and flock are fled.
O'er the Lord's vineyard swells
  The tide that with fell perdition
Sounded their doom and fashioned their tomb
  And buried them with the dead.
What then wert thou, and what art now?
  The answer is still unsaid.