"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, On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door : And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow, that lies floating o the floor Shall be lifted-Nevermore! EDGAR ALLAN POE. LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN. WHO has e'er been in London, that overgrown place, known, Are so dear, and so bad, they are best let alone. WILL WADDLE, whose temper was studious and lonely He entered his rooms, and to bed he retreated; Next night 't was the same!-and the next! and the next! He perspired like an ox; he was nervous, and vexed; Week passed after week, till by weekly succession, His weakly condition was past all expression. In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him: For his skin "like a lady's loose gown," hung about him. He sent for a Doctor, and cried, like a ninny, "I have lost many pounds-make me well-there's a guinea." The Doctor looked wise:-" a slow fever," he said; 66 Sudorifics in bed," exclaimed WILL, 66 are humbugs! 'I've enough of them there, without paying for drugs!" WILL kicked out the Doctor:-but when ill indeed, "Look ye, Landlord, I think," argued WILL with a grin, That with honest intentions you first took me in: "But from the first night-and to say it I'm bold— "I've been so very hot, that I'm sure I caught cold!" Quoth the landlord-" Till now, I ne'er had a dispute; "I've let lodgings ten years, I'm a baker to boot; "In airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven; "And your bed is immediately-over my OVEN." "The OVEN!!!"-says Will;-says the host, " this passion? Why "In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. 66 Why so crusty, good sir?"-" Zounds!" cried Will in a taking, "Who would not be crusty, with half a year's baking? Will paid for his rooms :-cried the host, with a sneer, "Well, I see you've been going away half a year." 66 'Friend, we can't well agree;-yet no quarrel "-Will THE LEGEND OF HORATIUS. Our spake the Consul roundly: "The bridge must straight go down; For, since Janiculum is lost, Nought else can save the town." "Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, With all the speed ye may; In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Now who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?" Then out spake Spurius Lartius; "Horatius," quoth the Consul, "As thou say'st, so let it be." And straight against that great array Forth went the dauntless Three. For Romans in Rome's quarrel Spared neither land nor gold, Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life, In the brave days of old. Then none was for a party; Then all were for the state; Then the great man helped the poor, And the poor man loved the great : |