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I hear even now the infinite fierce chorus,
The cries of agony, the endless groan, Which, through the ages that have gone before us, ,
In long reverberations reach our own.
5 On helm and harness rings the Saxon hammer,
Through Cimbric forest roars the Norseman's song, And loud, amid the universal clamor,
O'er distant deserts sounds the Tartar gong.
I hear the Florentine, who from his palace
Wheels out his battle bell with dreadful din, And Aztec priests upon their teocallis
Beat the wild war drums made of serpent's skin,
The tumult of each sacked and burning village;
The shout that every prayer for mercy drowns; 15 The soldiers' revels in the midst of pillage;
The wail of famine in beleaguered towns;
The bursting shell, the gateway wrenched asunder,
The rattling musketry, the clashing blade; And ever and anon, in tones of thunder
The diapason of the cannonade.
Is it, О man, with such discordant noises,
With such accursed instruments as these, Thou drownest Nature's sweet and kindly voices,
And jarrest the celestial harmonies ?
“THOU, TOO, SAIL ON, O SHIP OF STATE” 67
Were half the power that fills the world with terror Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and
courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error,
There were no need of arsenals nor forts:
The warrior's name would be a name abhorrèd !
And every nation, that should lift again Its hand against a brother, on its forehead
Would wear forevermore the curse of Cain !
Down the dark future, through long generations,
The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; 10 And like a bell with solemn, sweet vibrations,
I hear once more the voice of Christ say, “Peace!”
Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals
The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies! But beatuiful as songs of the immortals,
The holy melodies of love arise.
“Thou, too, Sail On, O Ship of State"
Thou, too, sail on, O ship of State !
We know what Master laid thy keel,
'Tis but the flapping of the sail,
In spite of rock and tempest's roar,
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,
Our faith triumphant o'er our fears,
EDGAR ALLAN POE
Hear the sledges with the bells
Silver bells! 20 What a world of merriment their melody foretells !
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
With a crystalline delight;
In a sort of Runic rhyme,
Bells, bells, bells,
Hear the mellow wedding bells,
Through the balmy air of night
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
On the moon !
How it swells !
How it dwells
Of the rapture that impels
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells
Hear the loud alarum bells
In the startled ear of night
Out of tune,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
Oh, the bells, bells, bells !
Of Despair !
What a horror they outpour
Yet the ear it fully knows,