THE RAVEN.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak
and weary. Over many quaint and curious volumes of for- got - en lore;
While I nodded, nearly napping suddenly there came
a tapping, as of some one gently rapping, rapping
at my cham-ber door;
"Tis some visitor," I
muttered, "tapping
at my chamber door: Only this and noth-ing more."
2. 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 Le- | nore; ||
For the rare and radiant maiden, | whom the angels | name Lenore, ||
Nameless | here, for ever- | more. ||
3. Open then I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter.
In there stepped a stately raven of the | sainted days of | yore. ||
Not the least obeisance made he; not an instant stopped or staid he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched a- | bove my chamber | door; ||
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just a- | bove my chamber | door; ||
Perched and | sat, and nothing | more. ||
4. And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting — still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas, just a- | bove my chamber | door: ||
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his | shadow on the | floor
And my soul from out that shadow, that lies | floating on the | floor, ||
Shall be | lifted — never | more." ||
This work was published before January 1, 1927, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.