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Posts Tagged ‘tinkle’

…..The Wind Invisible

The wind I cannot see I know
By looking at a tree.
The gentle rocks or wilder waves
Say wind is there, to me.

By ear, the wind invisible
Is measured by a chime:
A tinkle here, tink tinkle there
Or calling all the time.

The words I write within my verse
I measure and I mete
By feet that gallop, feet that plod –
For poetry has a beat.

By ear, the wind of poetry’s heard
With other sound – the rhyme.
And like the wind invisible,
Makes stanzas chime, chime-chime.

——————————————–

© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2015.

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                     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!
   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 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! –
      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 swells!
      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!

   Hear the loud alarum bells –
         Brazen bells!
What a 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 clamourous appealing to the mercy of the fire
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and the frantic fire,
      Leaping higher, higher, higher,
      With a desperate desire,
   And a resolute endeavour
   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 clanging of the bells!

   Hear the toiling 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 paean from the bells;
      And his merry bosom swells
         With 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.

 

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