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, 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 humanThey are Ghouls: And their king it is who tolls; And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A pæan from the bells! And his merry bosom swells With the pean of the bells! To the pean 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; 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. TO HELEN. I SAW thee once-once only-years ago: A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, Upon the upturn'd faces of a thousand Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses That gave out, in return for the love-light, Fell on the upturned faces of these roses M Clad all in white, upon a violet bank I saw thee half-reclining; while the moon And on thine own, upturn'd-alas! in sorrow! Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight- And in an instant all things disappeared. (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!) Were seen no more: the very roses' odors All-all expired save thee-save less than thou: I saw but them-they were the world to me. How dark a wo! yet how sublime a hope! How daring an ambition! yet how deep- But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight, Into a western couch of thunder-cloud; And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained. They would not go-they never yet have gone. Lighting my lonely pathway home that night, They have not left me (as my hopes have) since. They follow me-they lead me through the years. They are my ministers—yet I their slave. Their office is to illumine and enkindle My duty, to be saved by their bright light, And purified in their electric fire, And sanctified in their elysian fire. |