A New Raven
1886
The White Cloud Review, 20th May 1886, p. 8
Once upon a noonday dreary,
While I pondered weak and weary
Over many an olden billhead,
Relics of the days of yore;
While I pondered, thinking sadly
Of the bills so badly,
Some one came up rapping madly
On my locked and bolted door.
“’Tis some creditor,” I muttered,
Knocking down my chamber door—
Only this, nothing more.
Ah! distinctly I remember,
’Twas the 14th of December,
And the owed-for dying ember
Wrought its ghost upon the floor;
Eagerly I wished the morrow,
From my friends, much to their sorrow,
Who considered me a bore;
From the friends who had much boodle,[1]
And considered me a bore,
Who’ll be paid! ah, nevermore.
And the cotton, sad uncertain
Rustling of each percale[2] curtain
Thrilled me, filled me with fantastic longings often felt before;
Longings for the daddies’ dollar
I had often sought to collar,
When my diaphragm was hollow,
And my pocketbook was poor,
When the curly-headed barkeeper
Would credit me no more.
Presently my soul grew stronger;
Hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “I’m sorry that I heard you not before,
But the fact is, I was snoozing
Off the sad effects of boozing,
As you know, sir, if you listened to my wild and snorting snore.
And I’m sure I didn’t hear you;”
Here I opened wide the door,
’Twas the tailor as of yore!
Footnotes
- boodle — Money. (back to text)
- percale — A closely woven cotton fabric with a smooth finish originally manufactured in France (OED). (back to text)
Return to the Quaint and Curious index for more pastiches and parodies of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Raven”.
