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----
We were only three blocks away now. I could almost see his building.
Come on, Frost. Please.
----
“But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, ‘Other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.’
Then the bird said, ‘Nevermore.’
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
‘Doubtless,’ said I, ‘what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful
Disaster followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'.’”
----
Justin pulled over onto the sidewalk, sending a few pedestrians scattering and screaming. We launched ourselves from the cruiser, his gun already in his hands.
----
“But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling.”
At this, Frost paused to pull a chair over to sit upon before the door.
“Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking ‘Nevermore.’
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
