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 named 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 mortals
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 above 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 further then he uttered
- not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered
'Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he willl eave 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, 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
That the 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 has 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 undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted
- tell me, 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 named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named 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!