by Edgar Allan Poe

once upon a midnight dreary1, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint2 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 chamber3 door

'Tis some visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door

only this and nothing more.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak4 December;

And each separate dying ember wrought5 its ghost upon the floor.

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

From my books surcease of sorrowsorrow for the lost Lenore

For the rare and radiant maiden6 whom the angels name Lenore

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling7 of each purple curtain

Thrilled mefilled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

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

'Tis some visitor entreating8 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 implore9;

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 youhere 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 shutter11, when, with many a flirt12 and flutter,

In there stepped a stately Raven13 of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance14 made he; not a minute sTOPped or stayed he;

But, with mien15 of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door

Perched upon a bust16 of Pallas just above my chamber door

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling17 my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance18 it wore,

Though thy crest19 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 Plutonian shore!

Quoth the Raven Nevermore.

Much I marvelled20 this ungainly fowl21 to hear discourse22 so plainly,

Though its answer little meaninglittle relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being

Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door

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

With such name as Nevermore.

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid23 bust, spoke10 only

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

Nothing further then he utterednot 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.

Then 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 songs one burden bore

Till the dirges24 of his Hope that melancholy25 burden bore

Of 'Nevernevermore.'

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 velvet26 sinking, I betook myself to linking

Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous27 bird of yore

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

Meant in croaking28 Nevermore.

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable29 expressing

To the fowl whose fiery30 eyes now burned into my bosom's core;

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

On the cushion's velvet lining31 that the lamp-light gloated o'er,

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

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser32, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by Seraphim33 whose foot-falls tinkled34 on the tufted floor.

Wretch, I cried, thy God hath lent theeby these angels he hath sent thee

Respiterespite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff35, 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 Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore36,

Desolate37 yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted

On this home by Horror hauntedtell me truly, I implore

Is thereis there balm in Gilead?tell metell me, I implore!

Quoth the Raven Nevermore.

Prophet! said I, thing of evilprophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above usby that God we both adore

Tell this soul with sorrow laden38 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 in parting, bird or fiend! I shrieked39, upstarting

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

Leave no black plume40 as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

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

Take thy beak41 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 pallid42 bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

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

And 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 liftednevermore!