Hear the tolling of the bells--Iron bells! What a world of solemn hought their monody compels! In the silence of the ight ,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, olling, 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.