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II.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow ;-vainly I had sought

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So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,

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IV.

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I

implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you :"-here I opened wide the door ;

Darkness there, and nothing more.

V.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore !"—

Merely this, and nothing more.

VI.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than

before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore ;

'Tis the wind, and nothing more."

VII.

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.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute

stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my

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Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

VIII.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance

it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,

Ghastly, grim, and ancient Raven, wandering from the Nightly shore

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

IX.

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy

bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human

being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door

Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as "Nevermore."

X.

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he

did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered.

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."

Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

XI.

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly

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spoken,

Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,

Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful Disaster

Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one

burden bore—

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden

bore,

Of Never- nevermore.""

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