Explore "The Flowers of Evil" by Charles Pierre Baudelaire on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
How sweet and bitter, on a winter night, / Beside the palpitating fire to list, / As, slowly, distant memories alight, / To sounds of chimes that sing across the mist.
Oh, happy is that bell with hearty throat, / Which neither age nor time can e'er defeat, / Which faithfully uplifts its pious note, / Like an aged soldier on his beat.