To a woodman's hut one evening there cameEdgar Allan Poe said of Dr. Francis that his conversation was “a sort of Roman punch, made up of tragedy, comedy, and the broadest of all possible farce.” In those days “The Raven,” newly published, was the talk of the town. Dr. Francis, meeting Poe, invited him to come to his house on a certain evening, and straightway forgot the matter. Poe came at the appointed time. The Doctor, summoned to the bedside of a patient, left the drawing-room hastily, and in the anteroom ran into a tall, cadaverous figure in black. Seizing him in his arms, he carried him into the drawing-room and set him down before his wife. “Eliza, my dear — the Raven!” and he departed, leaving guest and hostess (the latter had never heard of “The Raven” !) equally petrified.
A physician and a dancing-master:
The wind did blow, io, io,
And the rain poured faster and faster.
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