The Maven
[sup]With Apologies to Edgar Allen Poe[/sup]
Once upon a website dreary, while I surfed on, weak and weary,
Over many a dull and tedious thread of forgotten bore –
While I nodded nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As if some one gently rapping, rapping at my monitor.
“'Tis some java script,” I muttered, “tapping at my monitor –
~ Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember- it was in the bleak November,
And each separate posting member- wrought their ghosts upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; – vainly I had sought to borrow
Some booze will surely cease my sorrow – sorrow for my lost rapport –
In that rare and radiant pit thread whom the Dopers named “The Board” –
~ Famous here for evermore.
Lines of silken sad uncertain- responses of the people blurtin’
Chilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating- of my heart, I stood repeating:
“'Tis some Doper seeking entrance in my monitor –
Some lost Doper seeking entrance in my monitor;
~ This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” type I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my monitor,
That I scarcely heard you” – though my volume up full bore; –
~ Silence there and nothing more.
Back into my chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard keys churning-- somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, "surely that is- something wrong, I know not what is;
Let me see, then, what there is, and this mystery explore –
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore; –
~ “'Tis a glitch- and nothing more.”
Deep into that dark screen peering, long I sat in wonder, fearing,
Lurking, reading answers no mortals ever dared answer before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken- in the typed in thread, “The Board!”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the thread, “The Board!” –
~ Merely this and nothing more.
Posting here, I hide my stutter, still with countless words to utter,
In here posted a stately Maven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with men of lord or lady, posted in my thread of lore–
Posted under the name of Cecil- displayed on my monitor –
~ Posted a “:)”, and nothing more.
Then this righteous dude beguiling- my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance he wore,
“Though thy name be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure not craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Maven wandering from the nightly shore –
Tell me what thy lordly name is- my thread is such a bore!”
~ Quoth the Maven, “Nevermore.”
Much a marveled this ungainly- soul to hear discourse so plainly,
Thought its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore;
Dopers cannot help agreeing- that no living human being
Scarcer few were blessed with seeing- that post within their monitor,
~ A thread to save, for evermore.
But the Maven, sitting lonely- in that placid post, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered; “Please tell me who you are.” I sputtered –
Till I scarcely more than muttered: “Other friends have asked before –
On the morrow he will leave me as my hopes have flown before.”
~ He posted only, “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken- by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, "what he utters is his only stock and store,
Free from some unhappy master- whose unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster- for his posts one burden bore –
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
~ Of “Never – nevermore.’”
But the Maven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling
Straight I wheeling a cushioned seat in front of keys and monitor;
Then, upon the cursor blinking, I betook myself to linking
Cecil’s post in my sig- thinking- what this ominous man of yore –
~ Meant in typing “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the sage whose fiery word now burned into thy bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, in my PC chair reclining
To guess his reply’s subtle lining- that the lit screen gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lit screen gloating o’er
~ He shall reply, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censor
Swung by mighty Lynn whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy good Bodoni – through these forums he hath sent thee
Delete – relieve me from my agony- erase this malice laden smiley we abhor.
I beg thee, oh gracious Lynn, delete this thread “The Board!”
~ Quoth the Maven, “Nevermore.”
“Cecil!” said I, “thing of evil! – prophet still, if man or devil! –
Whether Zotti sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all hath ranted, in this hallowed thread enchanted –
While all the other dopers chanted, – tell me truly, I implore –
Is there – is there a real Cecil? – tell me – tell me, I implore!”
~ Quoth the Maven, “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” post I, “thing of evil! – prophet still, if not a devil! –
By that heaven that bends above us – by that troll we both ignore –
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, with my begging eyes awaiting,
I shall clasp this sainted maiden- whom the dopers name “The Board” –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the dopers name “The Board.”
~ Quoth the Maven, “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign of parting, friend or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting –
“Get thee back into the tempest and the night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no smiley as a token- of that lie thy thou hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – cease thy game upon the board!
Take our voice to thine ear, and type thy name upon the board!”
~ Quoth the Maven, “Nevermore.”
And the Maven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On his pallid post of pity- now upon my monitor;
And his eyes have all the seeming- of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the millions that are teeming- cast his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
~ ~ ~ Shall be lifted – evermore!
