Ah, distinctly I remember; it was in the bleak December,
And each dipping streak of ember brought the price through the floor;
And the sick and sad uncertain trending of that crimson curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.

`Doubtless,' said I, `news should matter of the overstock and stores;
Call upon some Wall Street master, stop this dreadful disaster,
It's falling fast and falling faster...' Till the charts one burden bore -
Till the dirges of our hope that melancholy burden bore:
An ATH?  "Nevermore."