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 lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

1845.

Shall be lifted-nevermore!

108

Edgar Allan Poe.

SELECTIONS

FROM THE LATER POETRY

Ballads
Love

The Sea

War

Death and Sorrow

THE BALLAD OF CAMDEN TOWN

I WALKED with Maisie long years back
The streets of Camden Town,

I splendid in my suit of black,
And she divine in brown.

Hers was a

proud and noble face,

A secret heart and eyes
Like water in a lonely place
Beneath unclouded skies.

A bed, a chest, a faded mat,
And broken chairs a few.
Were all we had to grace our flat

In Hazel Avenue.

But I could walk to Hampstead Heath,
And crown her head with daisies,
And watch the streaming world beneath,
And men with other Maisies.

When I was ill and she was pale

And empty stood our store, She left the latch key on its nail, And saw me nevermore.

4

8

12

16

20

Perhaps she cast herself away

Lest both of us should drown: Perhaps she feared to die, as they Who die in Camden Town.

What 'came of her? The bitter nights

Destroy the rose and lily,

And souls are lost among the lights

Of painted Piccadilly.

What 'came of her? The river flows
So deep and wide and stilly,

And waits to catch the fallen rose
And clasp the broken lily.

I dream she dwells in London still
And breathes the evening air,
And often walk to Primrose Hill,
And hope to meet her there.

Once more together we will live,
For I will find her yet;

I have so little to forgive;

24

28

32

36

So much I can't forget.

#40

James Elroy Flecker.

THE PROUD LADY

WHEN Stävoren town was in its prime
And queened the Zuyder Zee,
Its ships went out to every clime
With costly merchantry.