The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten loreвБ†вАФ
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rappingвБ†вАФrapping at my chamber door.
вАЬвАКвАЩTis some visitor,вАЭ I muttered, вАЬtapping at my chamber doorвБ†вАФ
Only this and nothing more.вАЭ
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;вБ†вАФvainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrowвБ†вАФsorrow for the lost LenoreвБ†вАФ
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name LenoreвБ†вАФ
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled meвБ†вАФfilled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
вАЬвАКвАЩTis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber doorвБ†вАФ
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;вБ†вАФ
This it is, and nothing more.вАЭ
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
вАЬSir,вАЭ said I, вАЬor Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tappingвБ†вАФtapping at my chamber doorвБ†вАФ
That I scarce was sure I heard youвАЭвБ†вАФhere I opened wide the door:вБ†вАФ
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 darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, вАЬLenore!вАЭ
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, вАЬLenore!вАЭ
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon I heard again a tapping, somewhat louder than before.
вАЬSurely,вАЭ said I, вАЬsurely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery exploreвБ†вАФ
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;вБ†вАФ
вАЩTis the wind and nothing more.вАЭ
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 an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber doorвБ†вАФ
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber doorвБ†вАФ
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,
вАЬThough thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,вАЭ I said, вАЬart sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shoreвБ†вАФ
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the NightвАЩs Plutonian shore!вАЭ
Quoth the Raven, вАЬNevermore.вАЭ
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaningвБ†вАФlittle relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber doorвБ†вАФ
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as вАЬNevermore.вАЭ
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 utteredвБ†вАФnot a feather then he flutteredвБ†вАФ
Till I scarcely more than muttered, вАЬOther friends have flown beforeвБ†вАФ
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.вАЭ
Then the bird said, вАЬNevermore.вАЭ
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
вАЬDoubtless,вАЭ said I, вАЬwhat 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 boreвБ†вАФ
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
OfвБ†вАФвАШNeverвБ†вАФnevermore.вАЩвАКвАЭ
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul 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 yoreвБ†вАФ
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking вАЬNevermore.вАЭ
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosomвАЩs core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushionвАЩs velvet lining that the lamplight gloated oвАЩer,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating oвАЩer,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
вАЬWretch,вАЭ I cried, вАЬthy God hath lent theeвБ†вАФby these angels he hath sent thee
RespiteвБ†вАФrespite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!вАЭ
Quoth the Raven, вАЬNevermore.вАЭ
вАЬProphet!вАЭ said I, вАЬthing of evil!вБ†вАФprophet still, if bird or devil!вБ†вАФ
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchantedвБ†вАФ
On this home by Horror hauntedвБ†вАФtell me truly, I imploreвБ†вАФ
Is thereвБ†вАФis there balm in Gilead?вБ†вАФtell meвБ†вАФtell me, I implore!вАЭ
Quoth the Raven, вАЬNevermore.вАЭ
вАЬProphet!вАЭ said I, вАЬthing of evil!вБ†вАФprophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above usвБ†вАФby that God we both adoreвБ†вАФ
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name LenoreвБ†вАФ
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.вАЭ
Quoth the Raven, вАЬNevermore.вАЭ
вАЬBe that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!вАЭ I shrieked, upstartingвБ†вАФ
вАЬGet thee back into the tempest and the NightвАЩs Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!вБ†вАФquit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!вАЭ
Quoth the Raven, вАЬNevermore.вАЭ
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 demonвАЩs that is dreaming,
And the lamplight oвАЩer him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be liftedвБ†вАФnevermore!