Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1874-02-14


Presently my voice grew louder, as l though,
oil wigs and powder,
And, said My noble lady, your forgiveness
impore;
But in sooth was reclining, in this golden day,
In the lap of ancient usage, when you CAME
unto nv door,
So softly that | scarcely heard you," here /
opened wide the door
Tar barrels smoking! nothing more
Deep into that darkness glowering, where the
sitting clouds were lowering,
Like the dreadful wings of Azrael settling rounc
our house adOred;
Thought black thoughts, unuttered, and, 'twiNi
gulps of smoke, muttered,
ThrO' my stihed Indignation, those hated words,
"1HE BoARDn'
And the voice Of some contractor hOarsely
echoed back the Board"
The sipgle-headed, hundred handed
Boardl
Here my thoughts-the door slamming,-
verged alarmingly on damning,
Till heard again that rustic, somewhat louder
than before.
Oh" said l, "this haunted twilight! there i.
something at the skylight!"
Here pulled from out the high light chapeau
of the days Of yOre,*
Which had usurped your vulgar gla ling, til,
dread mystery TO explore
Riffs OF smoke and nothing more.
Presently there stepped an owl in, which rount
the mansion had been prOwlin',
And be wore the grave decOrum OF the stately
days of yore,
And he filled my soul with anguish as he sailed.
like lady Languish,
OF the old regime, and lighted just above my
chamber door
Perched upon bust of Dizziness just above my
chamber door
Sat, and stared, and nothing more.
By this bird, which thus intruded, my sad spirit
was deluded-
By the deep and stern assumption, and the
nTlcTI DIV ha
Thou emblem; dread and loyal, Of ancien
The dignity and dullness which our city father,
What was thy high cognomen in our owlery OF
yOre?
Then he yauped out "Nevermore"
This bird Of ancient omen, with the wierc
cOgnOmen,
Will doubtless on the morrow seek Potomac
outraged shore;
FOLLOW up The new commander, yclept 9TH
Modern Alexander"
In his march of ruthless conquest DER til.
IibeTs sacred shore
Tomorrow he will go where all my friends havr
QuOtb the Omen "Nevermore.u
Spirit of some old slave master, whom Improve
ment and disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till he ravet
With spirit suicidal, griefs which death slone
could bride,
sweep Potomac shore
l 90 where wild Improvement, with its nerve
destroying roar,
Can assail me "Neyermore!"
Then with melancholy madness, royal thought.
sOused deep in sadness,
Slowed wheeled on old back broken chair il
front OF bird and door;
And sitting sad and careful, twas disjointed,
springless, hairfull,
] fell into wakeful slumber OF the sainted
And homsged to the Omen, Of the golden days
of yOre,
With the handle Nevermore.
While sat, profoundly thinking, the Omen,
Stared with eyes Of glary wonder into my bos-
om's tortured core
1 saw our city taken by ten thousand hands,
and shaken
Out of the draggled raiment, which she wore
AS she stood in ancient raiment in the sleepy
days of yore
We shall see her nevermore!
Then me thought the air grew colder as 1 saw
those hands enfold her,
And l saw old musty usage carted nightly from
"Fiends,' 1 cried, ''unhand the city, have ye
neither hearts nor pity?
Take your par ks and streets and fountains TO
New England. and restore
Us dear, old, dirty Washington of yore!"
The owl then hooted, "Neyermore."
''Aha!" said /, ''thOu base detractor vassal OF
some vile contractor,
By your hopes in dire improvement, and the
Board which you adore,
Tell my soul, all torn with pity for our violated
city
Despite your Shepherds warning of the wolves
that haunt our shorei
Shall we feast and shall we fatten on the help
less flock no more?"
Quoth the Omen. "Nevermore!"
"Out, at once thou base detractor! out echo o.
some vile contractor;
To yOTTr . home Of spades and shovels, by the
Tho you leave me wildly grieving, will live
When our eIty's atfai fever of Improvement
She win turn to ancient usage and her mOuldy
sleep of yore!
QuOth the Omen "Nevermore"
And that ancient bird is posing, staring, blink
Ing, gauping, dosing
On the sacred bust of Dizziness just above nv
And his eyes have all the seeming of Pat Gu
lane. when dreaming
Of contracts by the dozen, which would net him
cash galore
And my soul from out the shadows which I'm
prOvements cast before
Shall be lifted nevermore.
Modern critics assume that poetry which
requires prose explanations is like a joke which
requires italicizing to show the point. This may
All DC 80 as lar as everything modern Is con-
cerned, but when writer is dealing with SUBJ
Jscts OF the OZARK ages 1t cannot be expected
that all the beautiful mysticisms, which are the
very towering Of ancient poesy, can be under
stood by the worshippers Of this mechanical age
or progress: I shall, In my effusions from the
growelry, keep to the very mystical lines Of
ancient usage. Hence this explanation. The
ehapeau in the window, instead of base glass,
was strictly in keeping with the age Of sedate-
ness, which preceded the fever OF Improvement.
Thrift is an infallible sign Of mechanism
Your true nobility Of this republic, who have
brooms In the hands Of base mechanics-alas
and alas !-despised thrift as they despised
labor. Careleeenees, even In rags. had such an
cir Of superiority in II, that your very improve
ments crate upon our senses - harshly &c the
Flooding step OF the street digger-or the r-r-rip
OF his pick into our very bowels DiRnifv
and dirt is an older, and vastly more honorsbls
firm than your Boston idols Pork And Beans'
There was something 30 noble in the este-on
one hinge dream-hfe OF our old regime. The