At some later time, possibly many years later, for _In Memoriam_ was sixteen years in the making, he added section 10—“I hear the noise about thy keel”—which carries on the subject, and also alludes to Somersby church “where the kneeling hamlet drains The chalice of the grapes of God.” For the time he wrote no more sections, but busied himself with _The Two Voices_, only towards the end of 1834 he wrote section 30, which he afterwards prefaced by sections 28 and 29, all describing the sad first Christmas of 1833, the first since Arthur’s death. In 28 he hears the bells of four village steeples near Somersby rising and sinking on the wind. He had more than once wished that he might never hear the Christmas bells again, but the sound of church bells had always touched him from boyhood, just as the words “far, far away” which always set him dreaming. In section 29 he bids his sisters, after decorating the church, make one more wreath for old sake’s sake, to hang within the house. Then section 30 tells how they wove it. “With trembling fingers did we weave The holly round the Christmas hearth;” After this we hear how they made a “vain pretence” “Of gladness with an awful sense Of one mute Shadow watching all.” They attempt the usual Christmas games, but they have no heart for them, and all pause and listen to the wind in the tree-tops and the rain beating on the window panes. Afterwards they sit in a circle and think of Arthur, they try to sing, but the carols only bring tears to their eyes, for only last year he, too, was singing with them. After this Alfred sits alone and watches for the dawn which rises, bringing light and hope. [Sidenote: LEAVING SOMERSBY] Section 104 brings us to another Christmas. Four years have elapsed since that last described. The Tennysons have left Somersby, with what regret they did so is beautifully told in the four sections immediately preceding this. And now, listening as of old for the Christmas bells, he hears not “four voices of four hamlets round,” but only “A single peal of bells below, That wakens at this hour of rest A single murmur in the breast, That these are not the bells I know.” The following section continues the subject. They are living at High Beech in Essex “within the stranger’s land.” He thinks of the old home and garden and his father’s grave. The flowers will bloom as usual, but there, too, are strangers, “And year by year our memory fades From all the circle of the hills.” The change of place “Has broke the bond of dying use.”