The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I wondered, weak and weary
Over many a quaint and curious volume
of forgotten lore.
As I faded, nearly napping
suddenly there came a tapping
As if someone gently rapping,
rapping on my chamber door.
“It must be a visitor,” I muttered,
This and nothing more.

Distinctly I remember, it was in the
bleak December
When my fire had turned to ember, that a
ghoulish presence did enter
And cast itself upon my floor.
Eagerly, I awaited the morrow,
at present hoping to borrow,
From a book an end to my sorrow,
sorrow for the lost Lenore.

With sadness and uncertain, the wind rustling
my silken curtain
Filling me with fantastic terror, terror I had
never felt before.
To still my heart from beating, there I stood repeating
“Some visitor seeks my greeting”
Entreating entrance at my chamber door.

And so my soul grew stronger, hesitating then
no longer
Saying aloud “Sir or Madam, your forgiveness
I do implore.”
“But the fact is I was napping, when so gently you
came tapping,
And so faintly you were rapping,
rapping on my chamber door.”
And so I opened it widely, but found only darkness.
Darkness and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there
watching, leering
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever
dreamed before.
But the silence remained unbroken, the stillness
gave no token.
The only word being spoken, was the whisper for
“Lenore?”

Back into my chamber turning, the soul within
my body burning
Again I heard a tapping somewhat louder
than before.
Surely it is nothing — but this mystery
I must explore.
“It is the wind and nothing more!”

Then with a great flirt and flutter, flew open
my window shutter
In stepping a stately Raven, made in
the days of yore.
Not the least courtesy made he, not a moment
stopped or stayed he
But with the demeanor of a lord or lady, perched himself
above my chamber door.

Soon my sadness turned into smiling, intrigued I
began inquiring
As to the nature of this strange creature, with feathers
dark as the night before.
“You must have a name?” —
But spoke the Raven “Nevermore.”

What a surprise to hear this creature
speaking!
Although his answer was puzzling, revealing little
meaning.
Has there ever been another human
being
Visited by a bird above his chamber door, perched
proudly proclaiming “Nevermore?”

But the Raven refused to answer, nor to speak
a word more.
As if from that one word his whole soul
did outpour.
Nothing further did he utter, not a feather
did he flutter
Leaving me alone to mutter, “What good is this
bird for?”
Hopefully tomorrow, this bird will leave my door.
But Spoke the Raven “Nevermore.”

Startled by the silence broken, with a reply
so aptly spoken
“Surely, this word he knows and nothing
more.”
He must have learned it from a master, suffering
of his own disaster
With melancholy growing faster and faster
’til alone this song was bore.

This Raven intrigues me, I pull my chair
beneath the door.
On this velvet cushion sinking, I soon
begin thinking
“What could be this ominous bird’s meaning?
What message lies in store?”

And so I sat there guessing, no words capable of
expressing,
While the bird’s beady eyes buried deep into my
bosom’s core.
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease
reclining
On that cushion’s velvet lining, with the lamp’s light
still shining on my chamber floor.

The air became denser, as if some strange
member did soon enter
To free me of my memories for the lost
Lenore.
“Foul Bird, why has God sent thee?
Why have the angels lent thee?”
Let me drink of this sweet nectar, and forget
my love Lenore.
“For surely, she is” —
But Spoke the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Prophet or Devil! You are truly
evil!”
Whether Temptress sent, or tempest tossed
upon my shore.
Strangely determined, to make your home
this island deserted.
A chill runs to my very core.
“Tell me then, I implore you, is there any comfort
for me to look forward to?
Will I ever be with my lost love Lenore?”
But Spoke the Raven “Nevermore.”

“Curse you and that cursed word!”
May it be a sign of our parting, for you have not
stopped since starting.
“Flee this place, and go to where you
were before.
Leave no feather as an omen, of those lies
you’ve surely spoken.
Leave my loneliness unbroken, but remove
yourself from my door!”
But Spoke the Raven “Nevermore.”

Never flitting, never fleeting, ever sitting,
ever seating, perched atop my chamber door.
With eyes of a demon, a dreamer
ever scheming,
The light still streaming, casting his shadow
upon my chamber floor.
My soul trapped, trapped in its darkness,
To rise again, nevermore!