RING out, wild bells, to the wild sky,
The flying cloud, the frosty light:
The year is dying in the night;
Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.
Ring out a slowly dying cause,
And ancient forms of party strife;
Ring in the nobler modes of life,
With sweeter manners, purer laws.
Ring out the want, the care, the sin,
The faithless coldness of the times;
Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,
But ring the fuller minstrel in.
Ring out old shapes of foul disease;
Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;
Ring out the thousand wars of old,
Ring in the thousand years of peace.
Ring in the valiant man and free,
The larger heart, the kindlier hand;
Ring out the darkness of the land,
Ring in the Christ that is to be.
Précis
Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem in memory of Arthur Henry Hallam sets out his hopes on Christmas Day. He hopes to see the past bury its dead: old emnities, disease and want, discourtesy and disrespect. He calls for an end to war and greed, and for the time to come to reflect more faithfully the example of Jesus Christ. (58 / 60 words)