“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”

            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, 

still is sitting

On the pallid bust of Pallas

just above my chamber door;

    And his eyes have all the seeming

of a demon’s that is dreaming,

    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming

throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow

that lies floating on the floor

    Shall be lifted—nevermore!

See also:

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe | Poetry Foundation