Hear the tolling of the bells —
Iron bells !
What a world of solemn thougt their monody compels !
In the silence of the night
How we shiver with affright
At the melancoly menace of their tone !
For every sound that floats
From the rust with in their throats
Is a groan.
An 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 pœan from the bells !
And his merry bosom swells
With the pœan of the bells !
And he dances, and he yells ;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
To the pœan of the bells —
Of the bells :
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
