Those Evening Bells! Those evening bells!

Those Evening Bells

Those evening bells! Those evening bells!

How many a tale their music tells

of youth, and home and that sweet time,

When last I heard their soothing chime.

Those joyous hours are past away,

And many a heart that then was gay

Within the tomb now darkly dwells

And hears no more these evening bells.

And so 'twill be when I am gone;

That tuneful peal will still ring on

while other bards will walk these dells,

and sing your praise, sweet evening bells.

ðəʊz ˈiːvnɪŋ bɛlz! ðəʊz ˈiːvnɪŋ bɛlz!

haʊ ˈmɛni ə teɪl ðeə ˈmjuːzɪk tɛlz

ɒv juːθ, ænd həʊm ænd ðæt swiːt taɪm,

wɛn lɑːst aɪ hɜːd ðeə ˈsuːðɪŋ ʧaɪm.

ðəʊz ˈʤɔɪəs ˈaʊəz ɑː pɑːst əˈweɪ,

ænd ˈmɛni ə hɑːt ðæt ðɛn wɒz geɪ

wɪˈðɪn ðə tuːm naʊ ˈdɑːkli dwɛlz

ænd hɪəz nəʊ mɔː ðiːz ˈiːvnɪŋ bɛlz.

ænd səʊ twɪl biː wɛn aɪ æm gɒn;

ðæt ˈtjuːnfʊl piːl wɪl stɪl rɪŋ ɒn

waɪl ˈʌðə bɑːdz wɪl wɔːk ðiːz dɛlz,

ænd sɪŋ jɔː preɪz, swiːt ˈiːvnɪŋ bɛlz.