The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary
While I pondered, weak and weary
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodded, nearly napping
Suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door"
"Only this and nothing more"

Ah, distinctly I remember
It was in the bleak December
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor
Eagerly I wished the morrow
Vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore
Nameless here for evermore

And the silken, sad, uncertain
Rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before
So that now, to still the beating
Of my heart I stood repeating
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door"
"Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door"
"This it is and nothing more"

Presently my soul grew stronger
Hesitating then no longer
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore"
"But the fact is I was napping"
"And so gently you came rapping"
"And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door"
"That I scarce was sure I heard you", here I opened wide the door
Darkness there and nothing more

Deep into that darkness peering
Long I stood there wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken
And the stillness gave no token
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Merely this and nothing more

Back into the chamber turning
All my soul within me burning
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before
"Surely," said I, "surely that is"
"Something at my window lattice"
"Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore"
"Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore"
"'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

Open here I flung the shutter
When, with many a flirt and flutter
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore
Not the least obeisance made he
Not a minute stopped or stayed he
But, with mien of lord or lady perched above my chamber door
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door
Perched, and sat, and nothing more

Then this ebony bird beguiling
My sad fancy into smiling
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven"
"Thou," I said, "art sure no craven"
"Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore"
"Tell me what thy lordly name is on the night's plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore"

Much I marvelled this ungainly
Fowl to hear discourse so plainly
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore
For we cannot help agreeing
That no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door
With such name as "Nevermore"

But the raven, sitting lonely
On the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour
Nothing farther then he uttered
Not a feather then he fluttered
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before"
"On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before"
Then the bird said "Nevermore"

Startled at the stillness broken
By reply so aptly spoken
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store"
"Caught from some unhappy master"
"Whom unmerciful disaster"
"Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore"
"Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore"
"Of 'Never—nevermore'"

But the raven still beguiling
All my fancy into smiling
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door
Then, upon the velvet sinking
I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore"

This I sat engaged in guessing
But no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core
This and more I sat divining
With my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining thatthe lamp-light gloated o'er
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser
Perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls 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"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!"
"Prophet still, if bird or devil!"
"Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore"
"Desolate yet all you sent, desolate yet all undaunted"
"On this desert land enchanted"
"On this home by horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore"
"Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the raven "Nevermore"

"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 name Lenore"
"Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore"
Quoth the raven "Nevermore"

"Be that word our sign of parting"
"Bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting
"Get thee back into the tempest and the night's plutonian shore!"
"Leave no black plume as a token"
"Of that lie thy soul hath spoken!"
"Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!"
"Take thy beak from out my heart and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven "Nevermore"

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