DURINGthewholeofadull，dark，andsoundlessdayintheautumnoftheyear，whenthecloudshungoppressivelylowintheheavens，I
hadbeenpassingalone，onhorseback，throughasingularlydrearytractofcountry；andatlengthfoundmyself，astheshadesoftheeveningdrewon，withinviewofthemelancholyHouseofUsher。I
knownothowitwas-but，withthefirstglimpseofthebuilding，asenseofinsufferablegloompervadedmyspirit。Isayinsufferable；
forthefeelingwasunrelievedbyanyofthathalf-pleasurable，becausepoetic，sentiment，withwhichthemindusuallyreceiveseventhesternestnaturalimagesofthedesolateorterrible。Ilookeduponthescenebeforeme-uponthemerehouse，andthesimplelandscapefeaturesofthedomain-uponthebleakwalls-uponthevacanteye-likewindows-uponafewranksedges-anduponafewwhitetrunksofdecayedtrees-withanutterdepressionofsoulwhichIcancomparetonoearthlysensationmoreproperlythantotheafter-dreamoftherevelleruponopium-thebitterlapseintoeverydaylife-thehideousdroppingoffoftheveil。Therewasaniciness，asinking，asickeningoftheheart-anunredeemeddrearinessofthoughtwhichnogoadingoftheimaginationcouldtortureintoaughtofthesublime。Whatwasit-Ipausedtothink-
whatwasitthatsounnervedmeinthecontemplationoftheHouseofUsher？Itwasamysteryallinsoluble；norcouldIgrapplewiththeshadowyfanciesthatcrowdeduponmeasIpondered。Iwasforcedtofallbackupontheunsatisfactoryconclusion，thatwhile，beyonddoubt，there_are_combinationsofverysimplenaturalobjectswhichhavethepowerofthusaffectingus，stilltheanalysisofthispowerliesamongconsiderationsbeyondourdepth。Itwaspossible，I