The Bells
I
Hear the sledges with the bellsвБ†вАФ
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, bellsвБ†вАФ
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
II
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, bellsвБ†вАФ
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!
III
Hear the loud alarum bellsвБ†вАФ
Brazen bells!
What a 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
NowвБ†вАФnow 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 bellsвБ†вАФ
Of the bellsвБ†вАФ
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bellsвБ†вАФ
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
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.