I was a fool and he was a fool, In this city by the sea For we drank and got drunk till we made it a rule That neither should drunker be; And we drank till we might have lesson’d a school Of fishes, such drinkers were we. And this was the reason that long ago In this city by the sea A fusilier spirit of ill distilling Destroy’d my Hannibal Leigh. ’Twas a spirit of ill when my pal was willing To drink for ever with me; And some were saying it was fulfilling A kind o’ warning to me. The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying him and me―― Yes! that was the reason, whatever was given In that city by the sea, Why the fusilier spirit came out a-killing My still-swilling Hannibal Leigh. But I drink all the longer and drink it more strong, For the two, for I drink like three,―― For myself once and twice for Leigh; And no fusil here nor in heaven along, Nor spirit down under the sea, Shall ever dissever our drinks to do wrong To the spirit of Hannibal Leigh. For whenever I drink I endeavour to think, I am drinking with Hannibal Leigh; And my hand never raise but to drink to the praise Of my drink-Kaiser Hannibal Leigh; And in all the night tide I hold on to the side Of the counter, the counter where Hannibal died; And I think that I Hannibal see And I’m Hannibal, Hannibal’s me. ――――:o:―――― RAVING.[16] Once upon a midnight, weary, As I maundered, gin-and-beery, O’er an oft-repeated story, Till my friends thought me a bore―― Sitting weeping, and half sleeping, Something set my flesh a-creeping, And I saw a Raven peeping Through my room’s unopen’d door. “See that Raven,” said I to them, “Trying to get through the door,―― A Black Raven――nothing more?” Now, I was not drunk, but weary, For my head was out-of-geary With close study of quaint volumes, Curious in forgotten lore; (Though they said delirium tremens) I’d been reading bits of Hemans, And some leaves of Jacob Behmen’s, Two or three――perhaps a score; And I said――“It is a Raven Rampant just outside the door―― Striding through,” I said――and swore. I insisted, and I twisted, And resisted and persisted Though they held me and, close-fisted, Saw no Raven at the door: I forgot all I had read of, For that ill bird took my head off, Like a coffin lid of lead off The dead brain of one no more. Would I trust their words instead of What I saw right through the door? Through the door,――I said――and swore.