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2.99stapping at my chamber door,
2.3sonly this and nothing more.
3.97sAre we scared yet ? Bart, he's establishing mood.
3.2sAh, distinctly I remember,
3.05sit was in the bleak December, and each separate dying ember...
2.1swrought its ghost upon the floor.
4.39sEagerly I wished the morrow. Vainly I had sought to borrow from my books...
3.57ssurcease of sorrow. Hmm ? Huh ?
4.1sSorrow for the lost lenore. Oh, Lenore.
4.22sFor the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named lenore,
2.92snameless here forevermore.
3.92sAnd the silken, sad, uncertain rustling...
3.05sof each purple curtain thrilled me,
3.15sFilled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.
6.59sSo that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating: 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. This it is, and nothing more.