Lest We Forget, Edgar Allan Poe, Jan. 19 1809 – Oct. 7 1849

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”

dore4

Gustave Doré, 1884

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  1. Beauteous work, mystical, a dream of love, a hopelessness — that lives beyond the grave; Dore had it right
    I say quoth my raven, “Evermore”, for the Master lives on.




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