`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore – Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore – Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'