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 I call the Living--I mourn the Dead--
 I break the Lightning.  
 I call the Living--I mourn the Dead--
 I break the Lightning. 
 Hear the sledges with the bells,
 Silver bells!
  What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
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 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 tingling of the bells. 
 It cometh into court and pleads the cause
 Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws;
  And read more 
 It cometh into court and pleads the cause
 Of creatures dumb and unknown to the laws;
  And this shall make, in every Christian clime,
   The bell of Atri famous for all time.
   - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 
 How soft the music of those village bells,
 Falling at interval upon the ear
  In cadence sweet; read more 
 How soft the music of those village bells,
 Falling at interval upon the ear
  In cadence sweet; now dying all away,
   Now pealing loud again, and louder still,
    Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on!
     With easy force it opens all the cells
      Where Memory slept. 
 While the steeples are loud in their joy,
 To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding,
  Let us read more 
 While the steeples are loud in their joy,
 To the tune of the bells' ring-a-ding,
  Let us chime in a peal, one and all,
   For we all should be able to sing Hullah baloo. 
 He heard the convent bell,
 Suddenly in the silence ringing
  For the service of noonday.  
 He heard the convent bell,
 Suddenly in the silence ringing
  For the service of noonday. 
 Softly the loud peal dies,
 In passing winds it drowns,
  But breathes, like perfect joys,
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 Softly the loud peal dies,
 In passing winds it drowns,
  But breathes, like perfect joys,
   Tender tones. 
 Those evening bells! those evening bells!
 How many a tale their music tells!  
 Those evening bells! those evening bells!
 How many a tale their music tells! 
 Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
 And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
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 Then get thee gone and dig my grave thyself,
 And bid the merry bells ring to thine ear
  That thou are crowned, not that I am dead.