once
upon a midnight dreary
while i pondered weak and weary
over many acquaintance curious volume of
forgotten lore
while i nodded nearly napping
suddenly there came a tapping
as of someone gently rapping
rapping at my chamber door
to some visitor i muttered tapping at my
chambered 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 cersei's of sorrow sorrow
for the lost lenore
for the rare and radiant maiden whom the
angels
name lenore nameless here
forevermore
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
to some visitor entreating entrance at
my chambered door
some late visitor entreating entrance at
my chambered 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 their at is
and this mystery explore
let my heart be still a moment in this
mystery explore
tis the wind 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 the mean of lord or lady
perched above my chamber door
perched upon a bust of palace 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 the lordly name is on the
night's plutonian
shore quoth the raven
nevermoor much i marveled
this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so
plainly
though it's 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 chambered
door
bird or beast upon the sculptured 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
and that one word he did outpour
nothing farther than he uttered
not a feather then he fluttered
till scarcely more than muttered
other friends have flown before on the
morrow he
will leave me as my hopes have flown
before
and the bird said nevermore
startled at the stillness broken by
replies 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 ravens still beguiling
all my fancy into smiling straight i
wheeled a cushioned seat in front of
bird
and bust in door then upon
the velvet sinking i betook myself to
linking
fancy undo fancy thinking
what this ominous bird of yore
with this grim ungainly ghastly gaunt
and ominous bird of yore
meant in croaking nevermore
[Music]
this i sat engaged in guessing
but no syllable expressing to the foul
whose fiery
eyes now burned into my bosom's core
this and more i sat divining
with my head at eased reclining on the
cushion's velvet lining that the
lamplight gloated ore
whose velvet violet lining with the lamp
light gloating over
she shall press ah
nevermore
then me thought the air grew denser
perfumed from an unseen sensor
swung by seraphim whose foot
falls tinkled on the tufted floor
wretch i cried thy god hath lengthy
by these angels he hath sent thee
respite respite in the
from thy memories of lenore
quaff o quaff this kind nepenthe
and forget this lost lenore
quoth the raven more
profit said i thing of
evil prophet still if bird or
devil whether tempter sent or whether
tempest
tossed thee hereashore desolate yet all
undaunted
on this desert land enchanted on this
home by horror haunted
tell me truly i implore
is there is there bomb 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 this soul with sorrow laden if
within the distant
ayden it shall clasp a sainted maiden
whom the angels named lenore
clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the
angels named lenore
quoth the raven nevermore
be that word our sign of parting bird or
fiend
i shrieked up get thee back into the
tempest
in the night's plutonian shore leave no
black plume as a token of that
lie that soul hath spoken
leave my loneliness unbroken quit the
bust above my
door take thy beak from out of 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 palace just above my chamber
door
his eyes have all the seeming of a
demon's
that is dreaming and the lamplight or
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
you