IV
Hear the tolling of the bellsвБ†вАФ
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 peopleвБ†вАФah, the peopleвБ†вАФ
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 stoneвБ†вАФ
They are neither man nor womanвБ†вАФ
They are neither brute nor humanвБ†вАФ
They are Ghouls:
And their king it is who tolls;
And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls
A paean from the bells!
And his merry bosom swells
With the paean of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the paean of the bellsвБ†вАФ
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the throbbing of the bellsвБ†вАФ
Of the bells, bells, bellsвБ†вАФ
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 bellsвБ†вАФ
Of the bells, bells, bellsвБ†вАФ
To the tolling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bellsвБ†вАФ
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.