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And lighten’d up his faded eye
TIT FOR TAT.
A Law there is of ancient fame,
Lex Talionis is its Latin name;
Give your next neighbor but a pat,
Of Aurengzebe the Great,
To drink and cool him in the river.
And, as he rode along,
Working and sweating,
Fuming and fretting,
But stay, I've here a solid bone,
May do, perhaps, as well.”
And full as well as we, he knows
The diffrence between words and blows, Between horse-play and civil dealing.
Use him but well, he'll do his best, And serve you faithfully and truly;
But insults unprovoked he can't digest, He studies o'er them, and repays them duly. "To make my head an anvil,” thought the creature, “Was never, certainly, the will of nature;
So, master, mine, you may repent."
took him to the water,
Through rows of shops and booths they past,
Till to a gard'ner's stall they came at last, Where cocoa-nuts lay piled upon the board.
“Ah!” thought the Elephant, “ 'tis now my turn To show this method of nut-breaking;
My friend above will like to learn,
He laid a blow so hard and full,
But with them crack'd his skull. Young folks, whene'er you feel inclined To rompish sports and freedoms rough,
Bear tit for tat in mind, Nor give an Elephant a cuff
To be repaid in kind.
DEATH'S FINAL CONQUEST.
Are shadows, not substantial things;
Sceptre and crown
Must humble down,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill ;
Early or late
They stoop to fate,
Then boast no more your mighty deeds ;
All heads must come
To the cold tomb;
ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I ponder'd, weak and
weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten loreWhile I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door ; “ 'Tis some visitor," I muttered,
Only this, and nothing more.” 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 LenoreFor the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore
Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilld me—fillid me with fantastic terrors never felt before ; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, “'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber doorSome late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door:
This it is, and nothing more.” Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, “Sir,” said I," or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore ; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you”-here I open'd wide the
Darkness there, and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,
fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream
before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whisper'd word,
“ Lenore !” This I whisper'd, and an echo murmur'd back the word, “Lenore !”
Merely this, and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before. “Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window
lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery exploreLet my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore;
"Tis the wind, and nothing more.” Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and
flutter, In there stepp'd a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopp'd or stay'd But, with mien of lord or lady, perch'd above my chamber
doorPerch'd upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door
Perch'd and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
no craven, Ghastly, grin, and ancient Raven, wandering from the nightly
shore Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's Plutonian shore !”
Quoth the Raven, “Never more.” Much I marvell’d this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was bless'd with seeing bird above his chamber doorBird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as
Never more.” But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he utter'd; not a feather then he flut
ter'da Till I scarcely more than mutter'd, “Other friends have flown
beforeOn the morrow he will leave us, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Never more." Startled by 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 Follow'd fast and follow'd faster, till his songs one burden boreTill the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore,
Of Never-never more.'" But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheel’d a cushion’d seat in front of bird and bust and
doorThen 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 “Never more." Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burn'd into my bosom's core ; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er
She shall press, ah, never more.