Assimilative Memory: Or, How to Attend and Never Forget

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Funk & Wagnalls, 1896 - 170 Seiten
 

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Seite 59 - 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 tinkling of the bells.
Seite 60 - Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells: To the tolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
Seite 60 - Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells — Of the bells— Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells— In the clamor and the clangor of the bells ! Hear the tolling of the bells — Iron bells ! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels...
Seite 59 - 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!
Seite 54 - The devil hath not in all his quiver's choice An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.
Seite 60 - In the silence of the night, 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, tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone — They are...
Seite 59 - 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 Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar ! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air!
Seite 59 - Oh, the bells, bells, bells ! What a tale their terror tells of despair ! How they clang, and clash, and roar ! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air ! Yet the air, it fully knows.
Seite 65 - Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the paean of the bells — Of the bells: 16 Ina sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells — Of the bells, bells, bells— To the sobbing of the bells ; Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells — Of the bells, bells, bells — To the tolling of the bells, Of the bells, bells, bellsBells, bells, bells— To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
Seite 59 - 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...

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