Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!" “Prophet!” said I," thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—- "Prophet!" said I," thing of evil-prophet still, if bird or devil! "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting - * Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave my loneliness unbroken !—quit the bust above my door! And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door ; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And my soal from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor |