⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Only this and nothing more.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Nameless here for nevermore.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀This it is and nothing more.”