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I started to watch myself with a mirror's eyes,
And I begin to slip away. And no one's here to reach the other side with me. Why don't you see me go this way? |
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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! |
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