The Raven

By Edgar Allan 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 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 radient maiden whom the angels name Lenore--
                              Nameless here for evermore.

                    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtian 
                    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 I you came rapping,
                    And so faintly you came tapping, tappping 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 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 murmured back the word "Lenore!"
                              Merely this and nothing more.