(JohnA provides an Edgar Allan Poe spin on the Phil Hart state timber tale)

Once upon a midnight dreary,
While Hart plundered, weak and weary,
Over many trees of curious volume from forgotten floor,
While he chain-sawed, nearly snapping,
Suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping,
Travelling from House Chamber floor.
“'Tis some visitor,” he muttered,
“Travelling from House Chamber floor-
Only this, and nothing more.”

Rest of poem here

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