List not those cries! How strangely do they blend
With the sweet bells from yonder gothic tower,
Pealing athwart the water. Such the contrast
Of wild religious awe to earthly clamour,
For on the morrow, and the morrow’s morrow,
At this still hour those bells will still peal on;
But these harsh sinful cries, the moment’s offspring,
Will with the moment pass to nought away,
They, and the passions, even as briefly raging;