. One hundred and one famous poems, with a prose supplement. Abou Ben Adhem James Henry Leigh Hunt (Bom October 19, 1/84: Died August 28,1859) Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)Awoke one night from a deep dream of saw, within the moonlight in his room,Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,An Angel writing in a book of gold:Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,And to the Presence in the room he said,What writest thou? The Vision raised its head,And with a look made of all sweet accordAnswered, The names of those who love the Lord/And is mine one? said Abou. Nay, not so,Rep
. One hundred and one famous poems, with a prose supplement. Abou Ben Adhem James Henry Leigh Hunt (Bom October 19, 1/84: Died August 28,1859) Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)Awoke one night from a deep dream of saw, within the moonlight in his room,Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,An Angel writing in a book of gold:Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,And to the Presence in the room he said,What writest thou? The Vision raised its head,And with a look made of all sweet accordAnswered, The names of those who love the Lord/And is mine one? said Abou. Nay, not so,Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low,But cheerly still; and said, I pray thee, me as one that loves his fellow-men. The Angel wrote, and vanished. The next night It came again with a great wakening light, And showed the names whom love of God had blessed. And, lo! Ben Adhems name led all the rest! Page Eighty-two < ®nt {Etxttbrvb nnb ©us Jff&tttiros Querns. The Bells Edgar Allan Poe {Born January 19,. 1809: Died October 7,1849) 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 oversprinkleAll 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 wellsFrom the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells,—From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. Hear the mellow wedding bells,Golden bells!What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!Through the balmy air of nightHow they ring out their delight!From the molten-golden all in tune,What a liquid ditty floatsTo the turtle dove that listens, while she gloatsOn the moon!Oh, from out the sounding cells,What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!How it swells!How it dwellsOn the Future! how it tellsOf the rapture that impelsTo the swinging and the ringing Of
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