No
pestilence had ever been so fatal, or so hideous.
The
scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face
Here
was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and each turn a novel effect.
The
panes here were scarlet --a deep blood color.
While
I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As
of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
And
the silken, sad, uncertain rustling
Thrilled
me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before
Deep
into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting,
dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
One
by one dropped the revelers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel
Bore
aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity
Open
here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In
there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore
Bird
or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With
such name as “Nevermore.”
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