Hgeocities.com/jade182003/TheRaven.htmlgeocities.com/jade182003/TheRaven.htmldelayedxkJ =OKtext/htmlpQ̠"=b.HSun, 03 Feb 2002 07:29:28 GMTX Mozilla/4.5 (compatible; HTTrack 3.0x; Windows 98)en, *kJ= TheRaven
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 radiant maiden whom the
  angels name Lenore--
                  Nameless
here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each
  purple curtain
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 you
  came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping 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.

Back into the 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 moment and this
  mystery explore;--
                'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

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 a minute
  stopped or stayed he;
But, with mine 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 lorldly name is on the Night's
  Plutonian shore!"
                 Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear
  discourse 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 sculpture 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 outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered--not a feather
  then he fluttered--
Till I scarcely more than mutterd "Other
  friends have flown before--
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes
  have flown before."
                 Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply 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 songs
  one burden bore--
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy
  burden bore
                 Of 'Never-nevermore.'"

But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy 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 yore--
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and
  ominous bird of yore
                 Meant in craoking "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
  ease reclinging
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-
  light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet-violet ling with the lamp-
  lighting gloating o'er,
                
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser,
  perfurmed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls 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 thy
  memories of Lenore;
Quaff, of 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 Tempter sent, whether tempest
  tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land
  enchanted--
On this home by Horror 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!
By that Heaven that bends above us--by that
  God we both adore--
Tell his soul with sorrow laden if, within the
  distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted 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 shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's
  Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy
  soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust
  above my door!
Take they 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 demon's
  that is dreaming,
Adn the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws
  his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies
  floating on the floor
                   Shall be lifted--nevermore!

[1844-1849]