...velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methonght, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer...tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!...

...But whose velvet violet lining, with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels, whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted flour. " Wretch," I cried, " thy God hath lent...

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...M-tvo"o volvot vinlpf lining with iho bHtlpligllt jçtoatillg О'бГ, She shall press, ah, nevermore ! p'q'r's' &O'8'9'k'y& $ $ angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. " Wretch," I cried, " thy God hath lent...

...o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. " Wretch," I cried," thy God hath lent thee...

...o'er, Bat whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er. She shall press, ah, nevermore I Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer, Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. " Wretch," I cried, " thy God hath lent...

...Tell me what thy lordly name is On the Night's Plutonian shore P Quoth the raven, ' Nevermore.' " " Then, methought, the air grew denser, Perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls Tinkled on the tufted floor. • Wretch,' I cried, ' thy God hath lent...

...But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, Ske shall press, sh, never more I Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from...tufted floor. ' Wretch !,' I cried, ' thy God hath lent thee— by these ansels he hath sent thee Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore...

...whose velvet violet lining, with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah ! nevermore ! IS. Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from...tufted floor. " Wretch," I cried, " thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee, Eespite — respite and nepenthe* from thy memories of...