Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;, , Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before., , Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;, , Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”, , Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”, , And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted—nevermore!, .

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