enore!" whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, Lenore!" Merely this and nothing more. the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, heard again a tapping, somewhat louder than before. said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; see, then, what thereat is—and this mystery explore-heart be still a moment-and this mystery explore ;— 'Tis the wind, and nothing more!" I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, e stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. east obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or yed he, -h mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber r 1 upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber-doorPerched, and sat, and nothing more. ebon bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art 'e no craven, Ghastly, grim, and ancient Raven, wandering from the Nightly shore Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber-doorBird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamberdoor, With such name as 66 Nevermore." But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he flutteredTill I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before." Then the bird said, "Nevermore." Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his song one burden bore Till the dirges of his Hope the melancholy burden boreOf Never'-of Nevermore." " But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore— What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore." This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose faint footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he hath sent thee Respite-respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Le nore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted On this home by Horror haunted-tell me truly, I imploreIs there is there balm in Gilead?-tell me, tell me, I implore !" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil,-prophet still, if bird or devil! . By that Heaven that bends above us— -by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aiden, Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.” And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted-nevermore! A WOMAN'S ANSWER ON BEING ACCUSED OF BEING A MANIAC ON THE SUBJECT OF TEMPERANCE. Go, feel what I have felt; Go, bear what I have borne- And the cold world's proud scorn Life's fading flowers strewed all the way, Go, see what I have seen, With gnashing teeth, lips bathed in blood, Go catch his withering glance, and see Go to thy mother's side, And her crushed bosom cheer; Wipe from her cheek the bitter tear; But who, forsworn, hath yielded up And led her down through love and light, And chained her there, 'mid want and strife, |