Page:Edgar Allan Poe - how to know him.djvu/249

 THE POET 229 ���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. ���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, bells To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells ! �in �Hear the loud alarum bells �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 endeavour Now now to sit, or never, ��� �