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Siegfried Sassoon - Joy-Bells
Work rating: Low

Ring your sweet bells; but let them be farewells   
  To the green-vista’d gladness of the past   
That changed us into soldiers; swing your bells   
  To a joyful chime; but let it be the last.   
   
What means this metal in windy belfries hung
  When guns are all our need? Dissolve these bells   
Whose tones are tuned for peace: with martial tongue   
  Let them cry doom and storm the sun with shells.   
   
Bells are like fierce-browed prelates who proclaim   
  That ‘if our Lord returned He’d fight for us.’
So let our bells and bishops do the same,   
  Shoulder to shoulder with the motor-bus.
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