The Trumpet
I recently had occasion to revisit Edgar Allan Poe's masterpiece, "The Raven." If you have not read The Raven, you must. Maybe it's meant to be a forlorn lament for Poe's Lost Lenore, but I found it incredibly funny. Here is the first of several verses ( to read the rest, click here ): Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more.” The Raven is written --- wait for it--- in trochaic octameter , with a difficult yet utterly enchanting lilt. David Pearce and I like limericks (and so does Dipankar Dasgupta, in Bengali no less!) but this was something else. Irresistible. So I offer you my attempt at (approximate) trochaic octameter, inspired...