Deb, it's a poem by E.A. Poe:

The Bells


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 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. 


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 an 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 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, 
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 clamor and the clangor of the bells! 


IV. 


Hear the tolling of the bells- 
Iron Bells! 
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! 
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 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: 
Keeping time, time, time, 
In a 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, bells, bells- 
Bells, bells, bells- 
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. 



-- THE END -- 

Well, not only was that an x-post, it made the page all wide. So, gone now.

I think my html made the page all wide, but I fixed it.

My word, yes - I haven't read that damned thing in thirty years. I knew I was forgetting it from somewhere.

Must reread Poe. The bells!

And if I poem-earworm with "Annabel Lee", I'm coming after you with a meat-axe.

In the clamor and the clangor

Gilmore Girls used this as an episode title.

Dude, I love just reading it aloud, its rhythms and rhymes.

Dude, I love just reading it aloud, its rhythms and rhymes.

I know! It was definitely read aloud when we did it in high school. Hearing it now, the rhythm sometimes reminds me of "The Lusty Month of May."

I've never read that poem before. It's incredible. Also, "tintinabulation". Must find a way to use that word in conversation today.

Anyway, here's my little thing for this week's challenge:

Looking down

She was half asleep, her parka hood pulled up, hands tucked into her sleeves, the drone of the propellers a distant murmur. Someone poked her in the back. She lifted her head and turned to the boy behind her, pushing her hood back with one hand. He looked up at her and grinned, pointing down. Behind him, the other passengers had gathered to stare out the windows, pointing, murmuring.

She adjusted her hood further back and glanced down. Movement on the white plain, brown and tan rushing below them. The caribou galloped across the frozen lake, silent from on high. She wondered what their hooves would sound like on snow-covered ice.

I have a 1200 word essay that needs some beta love. Anyone have time or interest for feedback?

Question I have aside from the usual "does it flow? is it funny? is it clear?" is "Is it interesting? Does it capture the surreal ridiculousness of the incident? Does it give a clear picture of my "status" within the fandom?"

This one builds off of other essays in which I describe the Players in this little pond, and I'll need it to build another concept. If that makes any sense.