I.
         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 [bad word] 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.

II.
         Hear the mellow wedding bells 
             Golden bells! 
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! 
       Through the balmy air of night 
       How they ring out their delight! 
           From the molten-golden notes, 
               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!

III.
         Hear the loud [bad word] bells-- 
                  Brazen bells! 
What 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, 
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! 
       Yet the ear, it fully knows, 
            By the twanging, 
            And the clanging, 
         How the danger ebbs and flows ; 
       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 clamour and the clangour of the bells!

IV.
          Hear the tolling of the bells-- 
               Iron bells! 
What a world of solemn thought their [bad word]  
       In the silence of the night, 
       How we shiver with affright 
  At the melancholy meaning of their tone! 
         For every sound that floats 
         From [bad word] 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 neither man nor woman-- 
       They are neither [bad word] nor human-- 
              They are Ghouls:-- 
         And their king it is who tolls ; 
         And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls, 
              Rolls 
            pæan from the bells! 
         And his merry bosom swells