How sweetly did they float upon the wings

Of silence through the empty-vaulted night,

At every fall smoothing the raven down

Of darkness till it smil'd!

John Milton (1608-1674): Comus. Line 249.

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Edgar A Poe (1811-1849): The Raven.

That raven on yon left-hand oak

(Curse on his ill-betiding croak!)

Bodes me no good.

John Gay (1688-1732): Fables. Part i. The Farmer's Wife and the Raven.