And the Kitty, never flitting, still is sitting, still...

And the Kitty, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And her eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er her streaming throws her shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!