From books surcease of sorrow my sorrow for the lost Lenore For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore Nameless here forevermore. 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, ""T is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; That it is, and nothing more." 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 mortal 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. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, Perched and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, 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!" Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, But the raven sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only 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!" 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, But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust, and door. Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore!" This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim, whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee-by these angels he hath sent thee W. pe, the 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! Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Quoth the raven, Nevermore!" Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!-prophet still, if bird or devil! By that heaven that bends above us by that God we both adore, "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!-quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my 1or1 Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!" And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Pee-wees' singin', to express In them baseball clothes o' his, |