To make shadows on the floor;
’Nary shadow—any more!
The Chancellor of the Exchequer
and the Surplus.
Lately on a midnight dreary, whilst I studied, though so weary,
Several sheets of close-writ figures I had gone through times before;
Whilst I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the Treasury door.
“Is that Kempe?” I slowly mutter’d. “If it is, pray leave the door—
I shall want you here no more!”