Much I marvell’d that so plainly it should answer, and so sanely; Though in sooth I hoped its answer little relevancy bore. For ’t had fill’d my heart with pleasure, and with ecstacy past measure Once again to see a Surplus come within the Treasury door, To observe a real Surplus on my Budget on the floor, Like the one in ’Seventy-four. But the Surplus, sitting lonely on my Budget draft, spake only That one word already mention’d――I refer to “Nevermore.” And not for its answer caring, and by no means yet despairing, I took heart and said: “Six millions was there left in ’Seventy-four; When shall I next get a Surplus large as that in ’Seventy-four?” Quoth my guest: “Why, nevermore!” But this time ’twas not contented with the word I so resented, But went on and said: “Oh, Northcote, ruin is for you in store! Thanks to your mysterious master, dearth will follow on disaster, Ills will follow fast and faster, trade will wholly leave your shore; And the people, so impoverish’d, will your taxes pay no more. Debt will haunt you more and more! “Now your revenue is sinking――it’s no use the matter blinking, Every day, you know, Sir Stafford, your big deficit grows more, And you have to borrow, borrow (three more millions, eh, to-morrow?) You have now a floating debt that’s ten times what it was of yore; Think upon the splendid Budget Gladstone left in ’Seventy-four, And your muddle now deplore!” As the Surplus thus declaiming, me to blushes deep was shaming, Straight I wheel’d my cushion’d seat in front the Budget on the floor, Sat on the morocco padding, and betook myself to adding Figure unto figure, madding though the look the total bore; Whilst that grim, ungainly, ghastly Surplus still upon the floor Went on croaking: “Nevermore!” “Surplus!” said I, “by thy figure, which methinks I see grow bigger, Whether Gladstone sent, or whether Fate has toss’d thee here to bore, Tell me, desperate and daunted, by a score of failures haunted, Soon by Childers to be taunted, tell me, tell me, I implore, Is there――can I――shall I――ever get things straight――say, I implore?” Quoth the Surplus: “Nevermore!” “Surplus!” said I, “much I question, if I don’t to indigestion Owe the vision of thy presence; still I’d ask thee this once more: In the name of Ewart Gladstone, whose finance I did adore, Tell me, here with debt so laden, if, before I go to Aidenn, I shall ever make a Budget with a Surplus, as of yore? Shall I e’er announce a Surplus from my place upon the floor?” Quoth the Surplus: “Nevermore!”