The examiner. [volume] (Louisville, Ky.) 1847-1849, 1849-11-17

LITERARY EXAMINER

LITERARY EAAMINE LII
From the Union Magazine for October.
The Bells.
BY EDGAR A. roe.
Hsa- The sledges with the bells
Silver bells!
What a world Of merriment their melody fore
How they unkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air Of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seem 10 twinkle
With a crystalline delight:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort Of Runie rhyme,
To the Standardization That 30 muscally wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells
Ksa the jingling and the tnkling Of the
bells.
Hear the mellow wedding balls,
Golden beIlsi
What a world Of happiness their harmony FORE
tells!
Through the balmy air OF night
How they ring out their delight:
From tine molten golden notes,
And all In tune,
What liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she
gloats
On the moonl
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What q gush of euphony voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How il dwells
On the Future! how IL tells
OF the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
or the bells, bells, bells.
or the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells
To the rhyming and the Ginning of the bells.
Hear the loud alarum BELLS
Brazen bells!
What tale Of terror, now, their turbuiency
tells!
In the startled ear Of night
How they scream out their alright!
Too much Mortified to speak,
They anonly shrek, shrek,
Out of tune.
Ina clamOrous appealing to the mercy Of the
In a mad exPOstuIatOn with the deaf and fran
tic FIRE
Leaping higher, higher, higher.
With 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 ahorrOr they outpour
On the bosom Of the PalPitsting air!
Yet the ear, 1t fully knows,
By the twanging
And the changing,
How the danger ebbs aud flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks AMI swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in tho anger Of
the bells
or the bells
or the bells, bells, bells. bells,
Bells, bells, bells
IN the clsmor and the clangor of the bells!
Hear the tOIling of the belle
Iron bells.
What world of solemn thought their mOnOdy
comPels!
In the silence Of the night,
How we shiyer with alright,
At the melancholy menace OF their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is groan.
And the peOple-ah, the people
They that dwell up in the steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, tolling, tOlling.
In that mufiied 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
pean from the bells,
And his merry bosom swells
With the pecan of the bells.
And he dances and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
Ia a sort Of Runic rhyme,
To the pasn Of the bells
OF the bells.
Keeping time, time, time,
In sort Of Runic rhyme,
To the throb6ing Of the bells
or the bells, bells, bells
To the sObbIng Of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, kneIs,
In happy Runic rhyme,
To the rolling Of the BELLS
OF the bells, bells, bells;
To the telling Of the bells
OF the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells
To the moaning and the grooming OF the bells.