Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon"s that is dreaming,
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
And the lamp-light o"er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked upstarting -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?"
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
Edgar Allan Poe
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night"s Plutonian shore!
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!"
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
Merely this and nothing more.
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Nameless here for evermore.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
Of 'Never-nevermore'."
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Only this, and nothing more."
On the cushion"s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened wide the door; -
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
THE RAVEN
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
This it is, and nothing more,"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven.
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
"Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
"Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door -
"Tis the wind and nothing more!"
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom"s core;
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
With such name as "Nevermore."
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee