KW4MW
02-03-2005, 08:25 PM
I was accused the other day of posting comments with out any mention of code or no code. #I wish to correct that serious character flaw. #
So with sincere apologies to Edgar Allen Poe
REMORSE FOR MORSE
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pounded brass, tired and bleary
With a fellow ham far away upon a distant and curious shore
While I copied, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my ham shack door.
" 'T’ is some CB’er’, " I muttered, "tapping at my ham shack door—
Only a no code op and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate twittering signal brought forth countries to explore
Painfully I rued the morrow, knowing that it would bring me sorrow
For my log book full of QSO’s , would ne’er be filled no more
Of rare and exotic contacts, made by means of yore.
Remorse for Morse, Evermore
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before:
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating.
" 'T is some godless codeless op entreating entrance at my ham shack door—
Some late Lid Op entreating entrance at my ham shack door—
A no code op and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger: hesitating then no longer,
"OM, " said I, "or YL truly your forgiveness I implore:
But the fact is I was QSL’ing, and so gently you came a calling,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my ham shack door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"-- here I opened wide the door--
QRN there and nothing more.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there wondering fearing.
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ham ever dared to dream before:
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken were the whispered words, “No Morse, No more”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the words
“Remorse for Morse”, and nothing more.
Back into the ham shack turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice
Let me see, then, what threat it is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore—
It may be a Pack Rat, and nothing more.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a arrogant op that walked across my floor;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, sat himself at my rig
Sat himself at my rig, just inside my ham shack door
There he sat and whispered, “No Code, No More”
Much I marveled this ungainly op, to coax QSO’s to plainly pop,
Though my speakers as he spun my receiver’s dial
SSB ,PSK, and Packet, it made such a fearsome racket
Smiling, he removed his jacket, I asked him how ”he could hack it?”
Turning to me he quietly replied
“Remorse for Morse, No More.”
Then methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Foul Op," I cried, "thy FCC has lent thee -- by the Devil they hath sent thee
To make me forget doubly, forget the pleasures of C W
I arose and in a pace, smashed my speed key in his face
Then routed him from the shack with Mace
As he fled I shouted
Morse, Of #Course, for Evermore!
So with sincere apologies to Edgar Allen Poe
REMORSE FOR MORSE
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pounded brass, tired and bleary
With a fellow ham far away upon a distant and curious shore
While I copied, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my ham shack door.
" 'T’ is some CB’er’, " I muttered, "tapping at my ham shack door—
Only a no code op and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate twittering signal brought forth countries to explore
Painfully I rued the morrow, knowing that it would bring me sorrow
For my log book full of QSO’s , would ne’er be filled no more
Of rare and exotic contacts, made by means of yore.
Remorse for Morse, Evermore
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before:
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating.
" 'T is some godless codeless op entreating entrance at my ham shack door—
Some late Lid Op entreating entrance at my ham shack door—
A no code op and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger: hesitating then no longer,
"OM, " said I, "or YL truly your forgiveness I implore:
But the fact is I was QSL’ing, and so gently you came a calling,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my ham shack door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"-- here I opened wide the door--
QRN there and nothing more.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there wondering fearing.
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ham ever dared to dream before:
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken were the whispered words, “No Morse, No more”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the words
“Remorse for Morse”, and nothing more.
Back into the ham shack turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice
Let me see, then, what threat it is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore—
It may be a Pack Rat, and nothing more.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a arrogant op that walked across my floor;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, sat himself at my rig
Sat himself at my rig, just inside my ham shack door
There he sat and whispered, “No Code, No More”
Much I marveled this ungainly op, to coax QSO’s to plainly pop,
Though my speakers as he spun my receiver’s dial
SSB ,PSK, and Packet, it made such a fearsome racket
Smiling, he removed his jacket, I asked him how ”he could hack it?”
Turning to me he quietly replied
“Remorse for Morse, No More.”
Then methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Foul Op," I cried, "thy FCC has lent thee -- by the Devil they hath sent thee
To make me forget doubly, forget the pleasures of C W
I arose and in a pace, smashed my speed key in his face
Then routed him from the shack with Mace
As he fled I shouted
Morse, Of #Course, for Evermore!