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No shrewish teares shall fill our eye
Let piping swaine, and craven wight,
upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten loreWhile I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. ""Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber doorOnly this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
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,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Le
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 before. "Surely," said I, " surely that is something at my window
Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore― 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,
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber doorBird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
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,
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yoreWhat this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen
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!—
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil-prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us-by that God we both
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,