The Raven
Edgar Allen Poe

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 someone gently rapping, rapping on my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping on 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 forever more.

And the silken sad uncertainly rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terror never felt before.
So, 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 strong, 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 scare was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door.
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into the 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 murmered back, 'Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into my 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 minute, and this mystery explore.
Tis the wind and nothing more!'

Open wide 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 obesience made he, not a minute stopped or stayed he
But with mein 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 Plutonean shore!'
Quoth the raven: 'Nevermore.'

Much I marvelled this ungainly foul to hear discource 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 scultured 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 out 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 will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
But 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 song that burden bore.
Til the dirges of his hopes that melenchology burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'

But the raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seet 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 rest reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censor
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls 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 the 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 temptor sent or tempest tossed thee here ashore.
Desolate and all undaunted, by this desert land enchanted
By this home of horrors 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
Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonean shore
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if within some distant Aidenn
It will clasp a saintly 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 shieked upstarting
'Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonean shore
Leave no black plume as a token of the lie thy soul has 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 daemon's that is dreaming
And the lamplight o'er him streaming, throws his shadow on the floor.
And my soul from out that shadow floating on the chamber floor
Shall be lifted--nevermore.