When my tangled locks have found the pillow’s rest,
I can hear the langle-lingle, soft and light,
Like the cradle-rocking lulling of the blest.
And upon the ear of Fancy—of Fancy born of Sleep,
Comes the klangle from a distant dreamy Dell;
For the angels lull me dreaming—dreaming in their keep,
To the klingle-langle-lingle of the bell.—
Kling-ge-lang-ge-lingle,
Klangle-lingle-langle,
Langle-lingle-lingle from the dell;