And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.

JOHN TENNIEL. J. Cooper .. 1

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.

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'Wretch,” I cried, "thy God hath lent tlee-by these angels he hath sent thee Respite-respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore !"

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.

The life upon her yellow hair, but not within her eyes-
The life still there, upon her hair-the death upon her eyes.

F. R. PICKERSGILL. W. J. Linton.

The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside,
Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride.
FELIX DARLEY

9

THE COLISEUM.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabal Lee.

Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride-
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.