And so faintly you came tapping-tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you:" here I open'd wide the door:

Darkness there, and nothing more.

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

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whisper'd word "Lenore? "

This I whisper'd, and an echo murmur'd 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 something louder than

66

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 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 Plutonian shore."

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvell'd 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

F

Ever yet was bless'd 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 that 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

flutter'd,

Till I scarcely more than mutter'd "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 dirges of his hope that melancholy burden

bore

Of Never, nevermore.""

But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul 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 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 ease reclining

On the cushion's velvet lining 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 denser, perfumed 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, 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 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—

implore!"

-tell me,

I

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 this 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.”