The Bells (Written by Edgar Allan Poe Adjusted by Phil Ochs)
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The Bells | |
|---|---|
| Author | Edgar Allan Poe |
| First published | 1849 |
| Type | Poem |
Poem
I.
Hear the sledges with the bells—
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 tintinabulation 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!
III.
Hear the loud alarum bells—
Brazen bells!
What 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
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 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 bells—
Of the bells—
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells—
In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!
IV.
Hear the tolling of the bells—
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 menace of their tone!
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,
All alone,
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 human—
They 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 pæan of the bells!
And he dances, and he yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the pæan of the bells—
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;
Keeping time, time, time,
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.
Phil Ochs Song Lyrics
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The Bells | |
|---|---|
| Author | Written by Edgar Allan Poe Adjusted by Phil Ochs |
| Type | Song |
Hear the sledges with the bells, silver bells
What a world of merriment their melody foretells
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle in the icy air of night
All the heavens seem to twinkle with a crystalline delight
Keeping time, time, time with a sort of Runic rhyme
From 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, golden bells
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells
Through the balmy air of night how they ring out their delight
Through the dances and the yells and the rapture that impels
How it swells, how it dwells, on the future how it tells
From the swinging and the ringing of the molten golden bells
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
Of the rhyming and the chiming of the bells
Hear the loud alarum bells, brazen bells
What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells
Much too horrified to speak, oh, they can only shriek
For all the ears to know how the danger ebbs and flows
Leaping higher, higher, higher, with a desperate desire
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire
With the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
With the clamor and the clanging of the bells
Hear the tolling of the bells, iron bells
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels
For all the sound that floats from the rust within our throats
And the people sit and groan in their muffled monotone
And the tolling, tolling, tolling feels a glory in the rolling
From the throbbing and the sobbing of the melancholy bells
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
Of the moaning and the groaning of the bells
Hear the sledges with the bells, silver bells
What a world of merriment their melody foretells
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle in the icy air of night
All the heavens seem to twinkle with a crystalline delight
Keeping time, time, time with a sort of Runic rhyme
From the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells, bells
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells