Majosita

THE RAVEN.

Once, at the edge of a midnight dreary, while weak and weary, sad reflections on embedded. Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, nodding, almost asleep, suddenly was heard a tapping, as if gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. "I muttered-is-a visitor tapping at my chamber door. That's all, nothing more. "Ah! distinctly I remember in the bleak December;spectra dying embers reflected on the ground; Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly recommended at my books surcease of my pain. Grief over the loss of Lenore, radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore by. Nameless here for evermore. And gnashing sad uncertain chilling. Silk red curtains llenábame with fantastic terrors never felt before. And now here, standing still the beating of my heart. I repeat:"It's a visitor at the door of my room wanting to enter. Any visitor that at odd my chamber door. That's all, nothing more. " Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer: "Lord, 'I said or Madam, truly your forgiveness implore. But the fact is I was napping when you came to play quietly, call ye so softly, to knock on the door of my room, That I scarce was sure I heard you. "Andthen I opened wide the door: Darkness, and nothing else. Deep into that darkness peering long I stood there wondering, fearing. Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream. But the silence was unbroken the stillness gave no token. And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!" I uttered in a whisper, and the echo returned it in a whisper: "Lenore!" Merely this andnothing more. Back in my room, my whole soul, all my soul within me burns himself, I soon heard again play harder. "Certainly, I thought, certainly that is something at my window lattice. Therefore, let you see what happens there, and thus can penetrate the mystery. Let my heart be still a moment, and thus can penetrate the mystery. " It is the wind and nothing more!

Open here I flung the door, andflutter, came a stately raven of the saintly days of yore. No hints of reverence, I'm not for a moment; But, with mien of lord or lady came to rest on the bust of Pallas, on my door. Perched motionless, and nothing else. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore. "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, 'I said, no craven,ghastly grim and ancient raven. Wandering from the nightly shore. Tell me your name on the bank of the Night's Plutonian! " Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." Much I marveled this ungainly fowl could speak so clearly; although its answer little meaning. Was irrelevant. For we can but agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird perched above the lintel of the door, Bird orbeast upon the sculptured bust Pallas in his chamber door With such name as "Nevermore." But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust. Uttered words like pouring his soul in that one word. Nothing further then he did not lift a pen. And then I said, barely whispering: "Other friends have gone before; morrow he will leave me, as I left my hopes. " Then the bird said, "Nevermore." Overwhelmed bybreaking the silenceso aptly spoken, "I thought surely, surely what he says is all he knows, his solo repertoire, learned from some unhappy master whom unholy mess persecuted, harassed without truce until his tune just had a sense, until the dirges of his hope carried that burden only melancholy 'Never, never again'. "But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, wheeled a cushionedseat front of bird and bust and door; and then, upon the velvet sinking, I started a fantasy with another link, thinking what this ominous bird of yore What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

In this brooding, sitting without a word, To the fowl whose eyes, as-firebrands, now burned into my bosom. This and more I sat divining, with his...