POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXI, Issue 1672, 30 June 1879, Page 3

POETRY.

T3E FATE OF BSRBY. [From “ Brown’s Monthly.”] Now upon a midnight dreary, Berry ponders, glum and weary, By a light that sheds no cheery beams across the office floor; With rejected. Bill before him—priest of duties ad valorem, Chief of many a trusting quorum that has helped him heretofore— Chief of many an outraged quorum that w : T help him Nevermore I ‘ Ahl how well the day I ponder, when I hopeful sailed from yonder. Thinking.’ quoth he, ‘ I no longer would be thwa.bed ps before: Now, I dread the Opposition, notwithstanding its condition — Still chaotic as perdition, it wi’l taunt me evermore — Though chaotic as perdition, it wiT hound me Evermore!’ Talking thus, and sadly th’ukiug, wh ;, e the lamp continued blinking, How to face with mien unshrinking, Service, Francis, and their corps; Thinking thus, and partly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one near him rapping—rapping at the office door— Some one like a spirit rapping, rapping faintly at the door. ‘This mast be,’ said Berry, rising, * Woods, my puppet, advertising: But his presence is surprising at this moment, and a bore; Yet dear John is not my choice, less—here the door on hinges noiseless Opened! and advancing voiceless, stalked across the sombre floor, The Ghost of Service —nothing more ! * Ghastly spectre! dread alarmer I ’ shrieked out Berry, waxing warmer, ‘ Hast thou come up hero to harm a fellow member, and to pour In his ears grim accusations cf bygone dissimulations ? Wilt thou cease to try my patience, and go back from hence bete noirl Quoth the spectre, ‘Nevermore! ’ * Bugbear I bogie! I defy thee! and this very instant by the Bolts of Jupiter, I’ll try thee, and thy boasted spirit lore — Omen grim ! } continued Berry, from his cushioned chair upstarting, ‘ Will the public take my part in House and country as before ? ’ Quoth the spectre, ‘ Nevermore! ’ * Fiend !’ with finger pointing hither, like a vane in evil weather, Though I hate thee altogether, tell mo truly, I implore, Having sworn to scout dictation, can I, with increased taxation, Prey for ever on the nation, filling thus my pocket’s craw ? Quoth the spectre, ‘ Nevermore !’ ‘Frightful creature! let me ask thee (for I’ve sworn this night to task thee). If the Council should unmask me, will my public day be o’er ? Are the members in their senses ? will my Bills, Acts, and defences, Back-door measures, poor pretences, gull the lot as heretofore ?’ Quoth the spectre, ‘ Nevermore !’ ‘ Prophet ghost I’ thou thing of evil! tracking me like dogging devil— Wanderer from tho pitchy level of the night's Plutonian shore! By thy month, so fierce, capacious, is there, is there in the spacious Future aught for me that’s gracious! will my breath again be law ?’ Quoth the spectre, ‘Nevermore!’

‘ Be that word thy last ono spoken—vanish ere all hope be broken ; Leave no footmark as a token of thy presence on the floor— Get the back to black perdition!—by the bands of coalition I will keep my proud position, keep it as I’ve done of yore ! ’ Quoth the spectre, * Nevermore ! ’

And that spectre, never flitting, with no thought at all of quitting, Still glooms close to Lorry sitting—sitting moody, lone, and sore ; And the monotone so uttered; yea, the single word thus uttered, In that chamber, latched and shuttered, with the shadow on the floor, Shall be silenced nevoimore 1