Uploaded on February 2, 2012
… I have read, in the marvelous heart of man
that strange and mystic scroll,
that an army of phantoms vast and wan
beleaguer the human soul.
Encamped beside Life’s rushing stream,
in Fancy’s misty light,
gigantic shapes and shadows gleam,
portentous through the night.
Upon its midnight battle-ground
the spectral camp is seen,
and with sorrowful deep sound
flows the River of Life between.
No other voice, nor sound is there,
in the army of the grave;
no other challenge breaks the air,
but the rushing of Life’s wave.
And, when the solemn and deep church-bell
entreats the soul to pray,
the midnight phantoms feel the spell,
the shadows sweep away.
Down the broad Vale of Tears afar,
the spectral camp is fled;
faith shineth as a morning star,
our ghastly fears are dead.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Giant Book of Poetry
edited by William H. Roetzheim
02.02.2024: That’s not a real bell. It’s a speaker, and that’s not right.