How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, To the tintabulation that so musically wells From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. Hear the mellow wedding bells, What a world of happiness their harmony foretells! What a liquid ditty floats To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! On the Future! how it tells To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! DREAM-LAND. By a route obscure and lonely, Where an Eidolon, named Night, Edgar A. Poe. On a black throne reigns upright, From a wild, wierd clime that lieth, sublime Edgar A. Poe. LENORE. Ан, broken is the golden bowl, The spirit flown forever! A saintly soul Floats on the Stygian river. Edgar A. Poe. LIFE. We live in deeds, not years-in thoughts, not breaths ;In feelings, not in figures on a dial. We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives Who thinks most,-feels the noblest,-acts the best. Philip James Bailey, 1816 LOVE AND POETRY. POETS are all who love, who feel great truths, |