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The Raven |
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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. |
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| 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." |
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| 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. |
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