The Raven

7Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,

8And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

9Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow

10From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —

11For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —

12 Nameless here for evermore.

13And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

14Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

15So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

16"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —

17Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; —

18 This it is and nothing more."

19Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

20"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

21But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,

22And so faintly you came tapping — tapping at my chamber door,

23That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door: —

24 Darkness there and nothing more.

25Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering,

26 fearing,

27Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

28But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,

29And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"

30This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"

31 Merely this and nothing more.

32Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

33Soon I heard again a tapping, somewhat louder than before.

34"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

35Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —

36Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore; —

37 'Tis the wind and nothing more."

38Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,

39In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;

40Not the least obeisance made he: not an instant stopped or stayed he;

41But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —

42Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —

43 Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

44Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

45By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

46"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no

47 craven,

48Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore —

49Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

50 Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

51Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

52Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore;

53For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

54Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door —

55Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,

56 With such name as "Nevermore."

57But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only

58That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

59Nothing further then he uttered — not a feather then he fluttered —

60Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before —

61On the morrow _he_ will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."

62 Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

63Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,

64"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,

65Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster

66Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore —

67Till the dirges of his Hope the melancholy burden bore

68 Of 'Never — nevermore.'"

69But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

70Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and

71 door;

72Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking

73Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore —

74What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore

75 Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

76This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing

77To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

78This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining

79On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,

80But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,

81 _She_ shall press, ah, nevermore!

82Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

83Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

84"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath

85 sent thee

86Respite — respite and nepenthé from thy memories of Lenore!

87Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthé, and forget this lost Lenore!"

88 Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

89"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! —

90Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,

91Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —

92On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore —

93Is there — _is_ there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!"

94 Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

95"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil!

96By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore —

97Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,

98It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore —

99Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."

100 Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

101"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked,

102 upstarting —

103"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!

104Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

105Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door!

106Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"

107 Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

108And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting

109On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

110And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,

111And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

112And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

113 Shall be lifted — nevermore!