Great Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe

The Bells1Hear 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 oversprinkleAll the Heavens, seem to twinkleWith a crystalline delight;Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the tintinabulation that so musically wellsFrom the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells -From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.2Hear the mellow wedding bells -Golden bells!What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!Through the balmy air of nightHow they ring out their delight! -From the molten-golden notesAnd all in tune,What a liquid ditty floatsTo the turtle-dove that listens while she gloatsOn the moon!Oh, from out the sounding cellsWhat a gush of euphony voluminously wells!How it swells!How it dwellsOn the Future! – how it tellsOf the rapture that impelsTo the swinging and the ringingOf the bells, bells, bells! -Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells -To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!3Hear the loud alarum bells -Brazen bells!What tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!In the startled ear of NightHow 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 desireAnd a resolute endeavorNow – now to sit, or never,By the side of the pale-faced moon.Oh, the bells, bells, bells!What a tale their terror tellsOf despair!How they clang and clash and roar!What a horror they outpourIn the bosom of the palpitating air!Yet the ear, it fully knows,By the twangingAnd the clanging,How the danger ebbs and flows: -Yes, the ear distinctly tells,In the janglingAnd 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.4Hear the tolling of the bells -Iron bells!What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!In the silence of the nightHow we shiver with affrightAt the melancholy meaning of the tone!For every sound that floatsFrom the rust within their throatsIs a groan.And the people – ah, the peopleThey that dwell up in the steepleAll alone,And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,In that muffled monotone,Feel a glory in so rollingOn 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, rollsA Paean from the bells!And his merry bosom swellsWith the Paean of the bells!And he dances and he yells;Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the Paean 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.The City in the SeaLo! Death has reared himself a throneIn a strange city lying aloneFar down within the dim West,Where the good and the bad and the worst and the bestHave gone to their eternal rest.There shrines and palaces and towers(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)Resemble nothing that is ours.Around, by lifting winds forgot,Resignedly beneath the skyThe melancholy waters lie.No rays from the holy heaven come downOn the long night-time of that town;But light from out the lurid seaStreams up the turrets silently -Gleams up the pinnacles far and free -Up domes – up spires – up kingly halls -Up fanes – up Babylon-like walls -Up shadowy long-forgotten bowersOf sculptured ivy and stone flowers -Up many and many a marvellous shrineWhose wreathed friezes intertwineThe viol, the violet, and the vine.Resignedly beneath the skyThe melancholy waters lie.So blend the turrets and shadows thereThat all seem pendulous in air,While from a proud tower in the townDeath looks gigantically down.There open fanes and gaping gravesYawn level with the luminous waves;But not the riches there that lieIn each idol's diamond eye -Not the gaily-jewelled deadTempt the waters from their bed;For no ripples curl, alas!Along that wilderness of glass -No swellings tell that winds may beUpon some far-off happier sea -No heavings hint that winds have beenOn seas less hideously serene.But lo, a stir is in the air!The wave – there is a movement there!As if the towers had thrust aside,In slightly sinking, the dull tide -As if their tops had feebly givenA void within the filmy Heaven.The waves have now a redder glow -The hours are breathing faint and low -And when, amid no earthly moans,Down, down that town shall settle hence.Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,Shall do it reverence.Annabel LeeIt was many and many a year ago,In a kingdom by the sea,That a maiden there lived whom you may knowBy the name of Annabel Lee; -And this maiden she lived with no other thoughtThan to love and be loved by me.She was a child and I was a child,In this kingdom by the sea,But we loved with a love that was more than love -I and my Annabel Lee -With a love that the winged seraphs of HeavenCoveted her and me.And this was the reason that, long ago,In this kingdom by the sea,A wind blew out of a cloud by nightChilling my Annabel Lee;So that her high-born kinsmen cameAnd bore her away from me,To shut her up in a sepulchreIn this kingdom by the sea.The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,Went envying her and me;Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,In this kingdom by the sea)That the wind came out of the cloud, chillingAnd killing my Annabel Lee.But our love it was stronger by far than the loveOf those who were older than we -Of many far wiser than we -And neither the angels in Heaven aboveNor the demons down under the seaCan ever dissever my soul from the soulOf the beautiful Annabel Lee: -For the moon never beams without bringing medreamsOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyesOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the sideOf my darling, my darling, my life and my brideIn her sepulchre there by the sea -In her tomb by the side of the sea.