Steampunk Poe - Part 15
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Part 15

A blood-red thing that writhes from out

The scenic solitude!

It writhes!-it writhes!-with mortal pangs

The mimes become its food,

And the angels sob at vermin fangs

In human gore imbued.

Out-out are the lights-out all!

And, over each quivering form,

The curtain, a funeral pall,

Comes down with the rush of a storm,

And the angels, all pallid and wan,

Uprising, unveiling, affirm

That the play is the tragedy "Man,"

And its hero the Conqueror Worm.

The Bells

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 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 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