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"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!� prophet still, if bird or devil!�
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted�
On this home by horror haunted� tell me truly, I implore�
Is there� is there balm in Gilead?� tell me� tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil� prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us� by that God we both adore�
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore�
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
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"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting�
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!� quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." |