Strange Visitors by Henry J. Horn
page 54 of 235 (22%)
page 54 of 235 (22%)
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Hark the bell! the funeral bell, Calling the soul To its goal. Oh! the haunted human heart, From its idol doomed to part! Yet a twofold being bearing, She and I apart are tearing; She to heaven I to hell! Going, going! Hark the bell! Far in hell, Tolling, tolling. Fiends are rolling, Whitened bones, and coffins reeking, Fearful darkness grimly creeping On my soul, My vision searing, She disappearing, Drawn from me By a soul I cannot see, Whom I know can never love her. Oh! that soul could I discover, I would go, Steeped in woe, Down to darkness, down to hell! Hark the bell! Farewell! farewell! |
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