THE RAVEN.

NCE 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,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber-door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I mutter’d, “tapping at my chamber-door—

Only this and nothing more.”

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