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And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody;
Through the pale door
And laugh—but smile no more.
Thou would'st be loved ?— then let thy heart
From its present pathway part not! Being everything which now thou art,
Be nothing which thou art not. So with the world thy gentle ways,
Thy grace, thy more than beauty, Shall be an endless theme of praise,
And love—a simple duty.
Hear the sledges with the bells—
In the icy air of night!
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, bells— From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.
Hear the mellow wedding 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,
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 bellsOf the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— In the clamour and the clangour of the bells!
Hear the tolling of the bells—
Is a groan.
In that muffled monotone,
On the human heart a stone—