Poe wrote this poem about the church bells of Fordham University, which rang right next to when he lived in the Bronx in 1845.
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One hundred and 24 years later, hip-hop was born three miles away from this very same spot.
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This poem has beautiful cadences and rhythms, just listen.
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Hear the sledges with the bells - Silver bells!
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What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
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How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, in the icy air of night!
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With the stars that oversprinkle With a crystalline delight;
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Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme,
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To the tintinnabulation resonating very fine
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From the jingling and tinkling of the mellow wedding bells
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Golden bells! What a world of happiness we know they must fortell!
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Through the balmy air of night How they ring out their delight! -
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From the molten - golden notes, And all in tune, hella tight
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While a liquid ditty floats, on the moon from sounding cells,
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What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
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How it swells! How it dwells On the Future! - how it tells
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To the swinging and the ringing Of the rapture that impels
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Of the bells, bells, bells - Check the bells, bells, bells,
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Go to sleep to the rhyming and the chiming of the bells
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[CHORUS:]
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Rock the Bells
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Hear the loud alarum bells - Brazen bells!
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What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
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In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright!
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Too horrified to speak, only shriek, and ignite
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In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
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A mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
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Leaping higher, higher, higher, with a deep desperate desire,
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And a resolute endeavor that accentuates the pyre
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Now - now to sit, or never, by the side of the moon.
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Oh, the bells, bells, bells! Know that terror's coming soon
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How they clang, and they roar! What a horror they outpour
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On the bosom of the air, with eternity in store
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How the danger ebbs and flows with the twanging, And the clanging,
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Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling,
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How the danger sinks and swells, in the anger of the bells -
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Of the bells - Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells
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Go to sleep to the clamor and the clanging of the bells!
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[REPEAT CHORUS]
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Hear the tolling of the bells - Iron bells!
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What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
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In the silence of the night, How we shiver with affright
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At the melancholy menace of their tone! It excites
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All alone hear it float like the rust within our throats, it's a groan
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And the people - ah, the people - in the steeple, All alone,
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And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone,
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Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone -
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They are neither man nor woman - neither brute nor human
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They are ghouls and their king well he rolls and he rules
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A paean from the bells as his merry bosom swells
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With the paean of the bells! As he dances, and he yells; (peein')
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Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme,
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To the paean of the bells: - To the throbbing of the bells -
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Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells,
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Go to sleep to the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
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(Rock) The Bells
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MC Lars Horris |