Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
“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 the lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”
Photography by Electric Percival