The entire poem is in movement, like water. It ripples. It reflects. It is prismatic. It flows. The second
stanza is like the ripples created by the "small glowing pebbles" being thrown on the water. The first line of
this second stanza is a throw. The reader can hear the pebbles hit. Plink, plink, plink, plink; this is the
tetrameter of line two in the second stanza. And the meaning follows in much the same way. "Good ballads of God" are an inner ripple of the larger concept "eternity with souls rest." Then, plink, "little priests," and plink,
"little holy fathers," both fall into the widening circle of "the truth of your hymning." Then perspective is shattered like water when a wind suddenly sweeps all ripples away, as the bells come, in "songs of carmine, violet, green, gold."