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3. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrill’d me,-filld 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-door: Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber-door;
This it is, and nothing more.” 4. 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 door :
Darkness there, and nothing more. 5. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering,
fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whisperd word “Le This I whisper'd, and an echo murmur'd back the word, “Lenore !"
Merely this, and nothing more. 6. Then into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon I heard again a tapping, somewhat louder than before : "Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window.
lattice; Let me see then what thereat is, and this mystery explore; Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore :
'Tis the wind, and nothing more.” 7. 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 an instant stopp'd or stay'd he. But, with mien of lord or lady, perch'd above my chamber-door,Perch'd upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber-door,
Perch'd, and sat, and nothing more. 8. Then, this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure
no craven; Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly
shore, Teil me what thy lordly name is on the night's Plutonian shore !"
Quoth the raven, “Nevermore”
9. Much I marvelld 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 sculptur'd bust above his chamber-door
With such name as “ Nevermore." 10. 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 further then he utter'd, not a feather then he flutter'd, Till I scarcely more than mutter'd, “Other friends have flown
before; On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.” 11. 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 Follow'd fast and follow'd faster, till his song one burden bore, Till the dirges of his Hope the melancholy burden bore
Of Nevermore,' of “Nevermore.'” 12. But, the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheel'd a cushion's 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." 13. 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 lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining that t) e lamplight gloated o’er
She shall press, ah, nevermore ! 14. Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an un
seen censer Swung by angels, whose faint footfalls tinkled on the tufted
Aloor: “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath sent 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 the lost Lenore !"
15. “Prophet!” cried I, “thing of evil! prophet still, if bird
or devil! Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest toss'd thee here
ashore, Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted, On this home by horror haunted, -tell me truly, I implore, Is there, is there balm in Gilead ? tell me, tell me, I implore.” Quoth the raven,
« Nevermore.” 16. “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 It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore,' Clasp a rare and radiant maiden when the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." 17. “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend,” I shriek'd,
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
« Nevermore." 18. 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 that is dreaming, And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
floor, And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted Nevermore!
SPEECH ON THE AMERICAN WAR.
BY LORD CHATHAM.
WILLIAM PITT, first Earl of Chatham, was born in London in 1708 He was one of the greatest orators of modern times.
1. I CANNOT, my lords, I will not, join in congratulation on misfortune and disgrace. This, my lords, is a perilous and tremendous moment: it is not a time for adulation; the smoothness of flattery cannot save us in this rugged and awful crisis. It is now necessary to instruct the throne in the language of truth. We must, if possible, dispel the delusion and darkness which envelop it; and display, in its full danger and genuine colors, the ruin which is brought to our doors.
2. Can ministers still presume to expect support in their infatuation ? Can Parliament be so dead to their dignity and duty as to give their support to measures thus obtruded and forced upon them ?-measures, my lords, which have reduced this late flourishing empire to scorn and contempt? “But yesterday, and England might have stood against the world; now, none so poor to do her reverence.”
3. The people, whom we first despised as rebels, but whom we now acknowledge as enemies, are abetted against us, supplied with every military store, have their interest consulted and their ambassadors entertained by our inveterate enemy; and ministers do not, and dare not, interpose with dignity or effect.
4. The desperate state of our army abroad is in part known. No man more highly esteems and honors the British troops than I do. I know their virtues and their valor; I know they can achieve any thing but impossibilities; and I know that the conquest of British America is an impossibility. You cannot, my lords, you cannot conquer America. What is your present situation there? We do not know the worst; but we know that in three campaigns we have done nothing, and suffered much. 5. You
swell every expense, accumulate every assistance, and extend
traffic to the shambles of every German despot: your attempts will be forever vain and impotent,--doubly so, indeed, from this mercenary aid on which you rely; for it irritates, to an incurable resentment, the minds of your adversaries, to overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder, devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling cruelty. If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country, I never would lay down my arms,---never, never, never !
6. But, my lords, who is the man, that, in addition to the disgraces and mischiefs of the war, has dared to authorize and associate to our arms the tomahawk and scalping-knife of the savage ? to call into civilized alliance the wild and inhuman inhabitant of the woods? to delegate to the merciless Indian the defence of disputed rights, and to wage the horrors of this barbarous war against our brethren? My lords, these enormities cry aloud for redress and punishment.
7. But, my lords, this barbarous measure has been defended, not only on the principles of policy and necessity, but also on those of morality; "for it is perfectly allowable,” says Lord Suffolk, “ to use all the means which God and nature have put into our hands.”
8. I am astonished, I am shocked, to hear such principles confessed; to hear them avowed in this house or in this country. My lords, I did not intend encroach so much on your attention, but I cannot repress my indignation ; I feel myself impelled to speak. My lords, we are called upon, as members of this house, as men, as Christians, to protest against such horrible barbarity! “That God and nature have put into our hands!" What ideas of God and nature that noble lord may entertain, 1 know not; but I know that such detestable principles are equally abhorrent to religion and humanity.
9. What! to attribute the sacred sanction of God and nature to the massacres of the Indian scalping-knife ! to the cannibal savage, torturing, murdering, devouring, drinking the blood of his mangled victims! Such notions shock every precept of morality, every feeling of humanity, every sentiment of honor. These abominable principles, and this more abominable avowal of them, demand the most decisive indignation.
10. I call upon that right reverend, and this most learned bench to vindicate the religion of their God, to support the justice of their country. I call upon the bishops to interpose the unsullied sanctity of their lawn, upon the judges to interpose the purity of their ermine, to save us from this pollution. I call
upon the honor of your lordships to reverence the dignity of your ancestors, and to maintain your own. I call upon the spirit and humanity of my country, to vindicate the national character. I invoke the Genius of the Constitution. From the tapestry that adorns these walls, the immortal ancestor of this noble lord frowns with indignation at the disgrace of his country.
11. In vain did he defend the liberty and establish the religion of Britain against the tyranny of Rome, if these worse than popish cruelties and inquisitorial practices are endured among
To send forth the merciless cannibal, thirsting for blood ! Against whom? Your Protestant brethren! to lay waste their country, to desolate their dwellings, and to extirpate their race and name, by the aid and instrumentality of these horrible hellhounds of war! Spain can no longer boast pre-eminence in barbarity. She armed herself with bloodhounds to extirpate the wretched natives of Mexico; we, more ruthless, loose these dogs of war against our countrymen in America, endeared to us by every tie that can sanctify humanity.
12. I solemnly call upon your lordships, and upon every order