"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee By these angels he hath sent thee Respite-respite and Nepenthe From thy memories of Lenore! Let me quaff this kind Nepenthe, And forget this lost Lenore!" 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- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." |