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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping... "Tis some visitor," I muttered , "tapping at my chamber door- only this and nothing more."
"Sir,"said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping...- here I opened wide the door;- Darkness there, and nothing more
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before..."Tis the wind and nothing more." Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven... not a minute stopped or stayed he;
...sitting lonely on the placid bust...Nothing further he uttered-not a feather he fluttered-Till I scarecly more he muttered, "other friends have flown before- Then the bird said,
"Be that word our parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked...Leave my loneliness unbroken!-quit the bust above my door! Quoth the Raven,
And the Raven, never flitting, is still sitting...On the pallid bust of Pallas...And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floorshall be lifted--nevermore
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