Roast in Peace
Twas the dreary midnight before Xmas
and all through the haven,
not a creature was stirring
not even a raven.
Ah, distinctly I remember
twas in the bleak December,
and each separate and dying ember
wrought it's ghost upon the floor.
The children were nestled
all snug in their beds,
while visions of the lost Lenore
danced in their heads.
While I nodded nearly napping,
there arose such a clatter
that I sprang from my bed
to see what was the matter...
"Tis some visitor entreating entrance
at my chamber door.
That it is, and nothing more."
The stockings were hanged
by the chimney with care
And the silken, sad uncertain
rustling of each purple curtain
thrilled me—filled me with
fantastic terrors never felt before.
Presently, my soul grew stronger,
hesitating then no longer...
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
tore open the shutter and threw up the sash!
"Sir!" said I, "or madam, truly
your forgiveness I implore.
But the fact is I was napping,
and so gently you came rapping
at my chamber door."
When... what to my wondering
eyes should appear??!!
—Darkness there and nothing more...
Back into my chamber turning,
all my soul within me burning.
Soon again I hear a tapping
somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "Surely that is
something at my window lattice.
Let my heart be still a moment
and this mystery explore.
Tis the wind and nothing more."
And then... in a twinkling
I heard on the roof
the prancing and pawing
of each little hoof.
("Tis the goat people," quoth I.)
Open then I flung the shutter, when
with many a flirt and flutter,
down the chimney he came with a roar!
Not the least obeisance made he,
not an instant stopped or stayed he.
But with mien of lord or lady
perched above my chamber door.
Perched and sat... and nothing more!
He was dressed all in fur
from his head to his foot.
And his clothes were all tarnished
with ashes and soot.
Then this ebony figure beguiling
my sad fancy into smiling
by the grave and stern decorum
of the countenance it wore:
"Tell me what thy lordly name is
on the night's Plutonian shore!"
He spoke not a word
but went straight to his work
and filled all the stockings
then turned with a jerk.
Til I scarcely more than muttered:
"Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow you will leave me
as my hopes have flown before."
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod... up the chimney he rose
to the top of the porch
to the top of the wall...
"Now dash away, dash away! Dash away all!"
"Be that word our sign of parting,
fiend!" I shrieked upstarting.
Get thee back into the tempest
and the night's Plutonian shore!"
But.. I heard him exclaim
as he drove into lore... "Happy Xmas to all!
But to you?? Nevermore!"
—Edgar Allan Potatoe
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From an original Xmas card... 1991 (I think)
