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,