網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

II.

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.

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 visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door—

Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;

This it is, and nothing more."

IV.

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 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 whispered

word, "Lenore?" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the

word, "Lenore !"—

Merely this, and nothing more.

VI.

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 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 mien 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.

VIII.

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."

IX.

Much I marvelled 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

Ever yet was blessed 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 fluttered— Till I scarcely more than muttered, " Other friends

have flown before— On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have

flown before."

Then the bird said, " Nevermore."

XI.

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.'"

« 上一頁繼續 »