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| Stanza 14 |
| Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he hath sent thee Respite-respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." |
| Key: bold: alliteration itallics: internal rhyme underlined: rhyme |
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| Description |
| Here, the speaker is telling the Raven that he would gladly like some nepenthe for the ease of his tormented heart and soul after the sad loss of Lenore. |