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That all the ships of the world could stare at him, passing by.

God 'll pardon the hell-black raven and horrible fowls of the air,

But not the black heart of the lawyer who

kill'd him and hang'd him there.

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And the jailer forced me away. I had bid him

my last good bye;

They had fasten'd the door of his cell.

mother!" I heard him cry.

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I could n't get back tho' I tried, he had something further to say,

And now I never shall know it. The jailer

forced me away.

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Then since I could n't but hear that cry of my

boy that was dead,

They seized me and shut me up: they fasten'd me down on my bed.

"Mother, O mother!”—he call'd in the dark to me year after year—

They beat me for that, they beat me-you know

that I could n't but hear;

And then at the last they found I had grown so stupid and still

They let me abroad again-but the creatures

had worked their will.

Flesh of my flesh was gone, but bone of my

bone was left

I stole them all from the lawyers-and you will you call it a theft?

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My baby, the bones that had suck'd me, the bones that had laugh'd and had cried— Theirs? O, no! they are mine-not theirsthey had moved in my side.

Do you think I was scared by the bones? I kiss'd 'em, I buried 'em all

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I can't dig deep, I am old-in the night by the churchyard wall.

My Willy'll rise up whole when the trumpet of judgment 'll sound;

But I charge you never to say that I laid him

in holy ground.

They would scratch him up-they would hang him again on the cursed tree.

Sin? O yes, we are sinners, I know-let all

that be,

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And read me a Bible verse of the Lord's good

I will toward men

"Full of compassion and mercy, the Lord"-let me hear it again;

"Full of compassion and mercy-long-suffering." Yes, O yes!

For the lawyer is born but to murder-the

Saviour lives but to bless.

He'll never put on the black cap except for the

worst of the worst,

And the first may be last-I have heard it in church-and the last may be first.

Suffering O, long-suffering-yes, as the Lord must know,'

Year after year in the mist and the wind and the shower and the snow.

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Heard, have you? what? they have told you he never repented his sin.

How do they know it? are they his mother? are you of his kin?

Heard! have you ever heard, when the storm on the downs began,

The wind that 'ill wail like a child and the sea that 'ill moan like a man?

Election, Election, and Reprobation-it's all

very well.

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But I go to-night to my boy, and I shall not find him in Hell,

For I cared so much for my boy that the Lord has look'd into my care,

And He means me I'm sure to be happy with Willy, I know not where.

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And if he be lost-but to save my soul, that is all your desire

Do you think that I care for my soul if my boy be gone to the fire?

I have been with God in the dark-go, go, you may leave me alone

You never have borne a child-you are just as

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hard as a stone.

Madam, I beg your pardon! I think that you mean to be kind,

But I cannot hear what you say for my Willy's voice is in the wind

The snow and the sky so bright-he used but to call in the dark,

And he calls to me now from the church and

not from the gibbet-for hark!!! Nay-you can hear it yourself-it is comingshaking the walls

Willy-the moon's in a cloud-Good night. I am going. He calls.

1880.

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Lord Tennyson.

THE RAVEN

་ ་་

ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered,

weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there

came a tapping,

As of some one

gently rapping, rapping at my

chamber door.

T is some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my

chamber door;

Only this, and nothing more."

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Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak

December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow,-sorrow for the lost Lenore,

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore,

Nameless here for evermore.

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And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me,-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating.

""T is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,

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Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;

That it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

Sir," said I," or Madam, truly your forgive

ness I implore;

But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently

you came rapping,

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And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my

chamber door,

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