Once upon a Oliclnight dreary, while I ponclerecl, weak and weary,
"Deep m earth my love is lying
Over tuany a quaint and curious volume of tat-gotten lore,
\V11ile I nodded, nearly llapptng, suddenly there cat ne a tapptng, And I must weep alone.
As of sorne one gently rapping, rapping at Iny cli•cltnber door.
'Science has not yet taught
"There is no exquisite beauty.
uS If madness IS IS not
without sonne stranoeness In
the sublunitv of tlle mtclhgence."
' 'And then there stole
Into Iny t-ancy, like a
tunslcal note, the
thoueht of what sweet
rest there Imust be In
"Those who dream by day
are cognizant of many things
which escape those who
dream only by night."
Edgar Allan Poe
"Never to suffer would never to have been blessed."
"Corncldences, 111 ceneral, are creat
stilülbllng blocks the way of that
class of thinkers who have been
clucated to know nothinc of the theory
of probabilitiles- that theory to which
' 'Tt is by no nneans an Irrational fancy
that, In a future existence, we shall look
upon what we thifik our present existence,
as a d ream.
have no power to mnpress the mmd
the rnost zlortous obiects of hutnan
research are Indebted for the most
without the exquisite horror of their reality."
u-lorious of Illustration.
should bear 111 Inmcl that, m oeneral, it is
the object of our newspapers rather to create a
sensation to Innke point - than to further the
cause of truth.
Oveln Ovice com