Raven

Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. Ah, distinctly I remember It was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember Wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished. The morrow; Vainly I had tried to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow Sorrow for the lost Lenore For the rare and radiant maiden Whom the angels name Lenore Nameless here for evermore.