A Ravin’.
Once upon a midnight dreary, as I slumbered cross and weary,
Cross from several horrid boring books of theologic lore,
While they haunted me in napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some confounded rapping, rapping at my bedroom door.
“’Tis some rascal,” low I muttered, “who’s too screwed to find his door,—
Only this and nothing more!”
Ah! I vividly remember, it was in a cold December,
And of fire I had no ember till the price of coals should low’r;
Eagerly I wished the morrow; being broke, again I’ll borrow,