CLIX. THE LOVE OF COUNTRY AND OF HOME. HERE is a land, of every land the pride, THERE Beloved by Heaven o'er all the world beside; The wandering mariner, whose eye explores Here woman reigns; the mother, daughter, wife, Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found? J. Montgomery What a world of merriment their melody foretells! In the icy air of night! In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. Hear the mellow wedding bells What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats O, from out the sounding cells, How it dwells On the future! how it tells Of rapture that impels Of the bells, bells, bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! Hear the loud alarum bells What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells ! How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of time, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, By the twanging And the clanging, 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 clamor and the clangor of the bells! 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 And his merry bosom swells with the pean of the bells! And he dances, and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, Keeping time, time, time To the throbbing of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells To the sobbing of the bells; As he knells, knells, knells, To the rolling of the 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! E. A. Pos. CLXI. THE RAVEN. ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. 66 “”T is some visitor," I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more." Ah! distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, Lenore For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named LenoreNameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, ""T is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; This it is, and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I," or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you here I opened wide the door; Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken and the darkness gave no token, |