the raven

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Once a December evening an old man did come walking Breath came stirring in old weathered huffs, white and swirling; But this was no happy time for a cheerless face came strolling
[First published in 1845] 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,
Black sleek wings tinted with blood Death dark eyes devoid of love
So there I was, awaiting joyous as the hour drew more near us When the man would come and join us, my dear love and his Lenore. I crossed the room, nervously pacing, playing with my dress’s lacing,
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