Although Poe’s poem “The Raven” is a nice piece of work, it is rather insistent with its rhymes. Therefore, I’ve removed them for your reading pleasure. I’ve fixed the whole poem, but I’ll post only the first two stanzas.

THE RAVEN UNRHYMED

Once upon a midnight gloomy, while I pondered, weak and sleepy,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten myth —
While I nodded, nearly dozing, suddenly there came a knocking,
As of some one gently beating, at the entrance to my room.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “at the entrance to my room —
Only this and nothing else.”

Ah, distinctly I recall that it was in the bleak October;
And each separate dying cinder wrought its ghost upon the ground.
Eagerly I wished for Monday; — vainly I had sought to pilfer
From my books surcease of sadness — sadness for the lost Louise—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Louise —
Nameless here eternally.