"Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer, swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. 'Wretch, ' I cried, 'thy God hath lent thee- they angels he has sent thee, Respite- respite and nepenthe from they memories of Lenore!' Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore'"
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