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's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
"Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise.
"But waft the angel on her flight with a paean of old days!
"Let no bell toll!—lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth,
"Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damned Earth.
"To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven—
"From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven—
"From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of
A lunatic may be "soothed,"... for a time, but in the end, he is very apt to become obstreperous. His cunning, too, is proverbial, and great.... When a madman appears thoroughly sane, indeed, it is high time to put him in a straight jacket.
The painter stood entranced before the work which he had wrought;... he grew tremulous and ... crying with a loud voice, "This is indeed Life itself!" turned suddenly to regard his beloved:MShe was dead!