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The bells themselves are the best of preachers, Their brazen lips are learned teachers, From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air, Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw, Shriller than trumpets under the Law, Now a sermon and now a prayer.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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And when you appear all the rivers sound in my body, bells shake the sky, and a hymn fills the world.
— Pablo Neruda
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