Those steeples which climb ‘top trees
so blossomed with lilac pearls,
A-spiralled by singing swallows,
Who chirp with the chime,
In time with the bells.
From Napolean’s feet as he climbed it,
To low beggars a-begging their alms,
Though the Parisian winds do lull,
Loud ring the bells of Notre Dame.
Photo source: i.ytimg.com/vi/lIk656ANnYE/maxresdefault.jpg