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HEAR the sledges with the bells
--
Silver bells !
What a world of merriment their melody foretells
!
How they
tinkle, tinkle,
tinkle,
In the icy air of night
!
While the
stars that
oversprinkle
All
the heavens, seem to
twinkle
With a crystalline delight
;
Keeping time, time,
time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the tintinnabulation that so musically
wells
From the bells, bells, bells,
bells,
Bells, bells, bells --
From the jingling and the tinkling
of the bells.
Hear the mellow wedding
bells
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells
!
Through the
balmy air of
night
How they
ring out their delight
!
From the molten-golden
notes,
And all in
tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the
turtle-dove that listens, while she
gloats
On the moon
!
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously
wells
!
How it swells
!
How it
dwells
On the Future ! how it
tells
Of the rapture that
impels
To the swinging and the
ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the
bells, bells, bells,
bells,
Bells, bells, bells --
To the rhyming and the chiming of
the bells !
Hear the loud alarum bells
--
Brazen bells !
What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells
!
In the
startled ear of
night
How they
scream out their affright
!
Too much horrified to
speak,
They can only shriek,
shriek,
Out of tune,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
In a
mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic
fire,
Leaping higher, higher,
higher,
With a desperate
desire,
And a resolute
endeavor
Now -- now to sit or
never,
By the
side of the pale-faced
moon.
Oh, the bells, bells, bells
!
What a tale their terror
tells
Of Despair !
How they clang, and
clash, and roar !
What a horror
they outpour
On the bosom of the palpitating air
!
Yet the ear,
it fully
knows,
By the
twanging,
And the
clanging,
How the danger ebbs and flows ;
Yet, the ear distinctly
tells,
In the
jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger
sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the
bells
--
Of the bells --
Of the bells, bells,
bells,
bells,
Bells, bells, bells --
In the clamour and the clangour of
the bells !
Hear the tolling of the bells
--
Iron bells !
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels
!
In the silence of the
night,
How we shiver with
affright
At the melancholy meaning of their tone
!
For every sound that
floats
From the rust within their
throats
Is a
groan.
And the people -- ah, the people
--
They that dwell up in the
steeple,
All
alone,
And who, tolling, tolling,
tolling,
In that muffled
monotone,
Feel a glory in so
rolling
On the human heart a stone --
They
are neither man nor woman --
They
are neither brute nor human
--
They are Ghouls:
--
And their king it is who tolls
;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
rolls,
Rolls
A pćan from the bells
!
And his merry bosom
swells
With the pćan of the bells
!
And he dances, and he yells ;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a
sort of Runic
rhyme,
To the pćan of the bells
--
Of the bells :
Keeping time, time,
time,
In a sort of Runic
rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bells
--
Of the bells, bells, bells
--
To the sobbing of the bells ;
Keeping time, time,
time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a
happy Runic
rhyme,
To the rolling of the bells
--
Of the bells, bells, bells
--
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the
bells, bells, bells, bells
--
Bells, bells, bells --
To the moaning and the groaning of
the bells.
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