The Last Bell

A Chiastic Poem

I wished the last bell would fall,

That grim ring be the end of all.

I listened for that hollow sound

To end, that all of life was drowned,

For there, thought I, true rest was found.



I counted each and every toll,

Each echo striking at my soul;

Till Death himself rolled shut the stone,

And there I lay—enclosed, alone,

Awaiting still the final toll.



Now look! I see that Cross, that tree,

My Saviour offered up for me;

Upon the hill my bell now rings

But strikes instead the King of kings.

It tolled for Him who bore my place,

And broke the grip of death's embrace.

The sky split forth for triumph bounded, 

And angels’ praise with joy resounded, 

For His stone gave way, His grave unsealed, 

To me, says He, “Be fully healed.”



Receiving now Christ’s toll for me,

I rise from stone, now set free;

Death’s work undone, his chain’s released.

Each echo rings with joy increased,

I count each victory made whole.



True rest in Him now I have found,

To rise and live, now life abounds.

I listen for that golden ring

For when He will renew all things

And hear the joyful bells He brings.