| I fall from the holy empire
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| An angel that loosing his path
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| I am tormented with passion and fire
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| I am tormented with pride, greed and lust
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| The raven, once upon a midnight dreary
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| While I pondered, weak and weary
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| Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore
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| While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
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| I am dreaming flying higher and higher
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| I am dreaming hope, fear, love and pain
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| My graceful forbidden desire
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| They always call whisper my name
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| Prophet, said I, thing of evil
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| Prophet still, if bird or devil
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| Whether Tempter sent
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| Or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore
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| Desolate yet all undaunted
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| On this desert land enchanted
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| On this home by Horror haunted
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| Tell me truly, I implore
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| Is there, is there balm in Gilead?
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| Tell me, tell me, I implore
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| Quoth the Raven «Nevermore»
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| Deep into that darkness peering
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| Long I stood there wondering, fearing
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| Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal
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| Ever dared to dream before
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| Be that word our sign of parting
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| Bird or fiend, I shrieked, upstarting
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| Leave no black plume as a token
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| Of that lie thy soul hath spoken
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| Leave my loneliness unbroken
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| Quit the bust above my door
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| Take thy beak from out my heart
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| I fall from the holy empire
|
| An angel that loosing his path
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| I am tormented with passion and fire
|
| I am tormented with pride, greed and lust
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| And the Raven, never flitting
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| Still is sitting
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| Still is sitting
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| On the pallid bust of Pallas
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| Just above my chamber door
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| And his eyes have all the seeming
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| Of a demons that is dreaming
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| And the lamp-light o’er him streaming
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| Throws his shadow on the floor
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| And my soul from out that shadow
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| That lies floating on the floor
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| Shall be lifted, nevermore! |