THE POETICAL WORKS

OF

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

THE RAVEN.

I.

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.”

THE RAVEN.

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

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

ber door

Some late visitor 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.

V.

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.

THE RAVEN.

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.

VII.

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.”