Welcome to Gaia! :: Artist Gallery

The Raven<br />
<br />
by Edgar Allan Poe<br />
<br />
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,<br />
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--<br />
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,<br />
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.<br />
"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door--<br />
Only this and nothing more."<br />
<br />
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,<br />
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.<br />
Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow<br />
From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore--<br />
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--<br />
Nameless here for evermore.<br />
<br />
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain<br />
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;<br />
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating<br />
"'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door--<br />
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;<br />
This it is and nothing more."<br />
<br />
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,<br />
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;<br />
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,<br />
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,<br />
That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door--<br />
Darkness there and nothing more.<br />
<br />
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,<br />
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;<br />
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,<br />
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"<br />
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"--<br />
Merely this and nothing more.<br />
<br />
Back into the chamber turning, all my sour within me burning,<br />
Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before.<br />
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;<br />
Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore--<br />
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;--<br />
'Tis the wind and nothing more.<br />
<br />
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,<br />
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.<br />
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,<br />
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door--<br />
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door--<br />
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.<br />
<br />
Then the ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,<br />
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,<br />
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,<br />
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore--<br />
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."<br />
<br />
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,<br />
Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;<br />
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being<br />
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door--<br />
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,<br />
With such name as "Nevermore."<br />
<br />
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only<br />
That one word, as if its soul in that one word he did outpour<br />
Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered--<br />
Till I scarcely more than muttered: "Other friends have flown before--<br />
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."<br />
Then the bird said "Nevermore."<br />
<br />
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,<br />
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,<br />
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster<br />
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore--<br />
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore<br />
Of 'Never--nevermore.'"<br />
<br />
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,<br />
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;<br />
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking<br />
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--<br />
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore<br />
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."<br />
<br />
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing<br />
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;<br />
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining<br />
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,<br />
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er<br />
She shall press, ah, nevermore!<br />
<br />
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer<br />
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.<br />
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee<br />
Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!<br />
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."<br />
<br />
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!--<br />
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,<br />
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--<br />
On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore--<br />
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."<br />
<br />
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!<br />
By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--<br />
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,<br />
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore--<br />
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."<br />
<br />
"Be that our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--<br />
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!<br />
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has spoken!<br />
Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door!<br />
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"<br />
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."<br />
<br />
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting<br />
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;<br />
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming<br />
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadows on the floor;<br />
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor<br />
Shall be lifted--nevermore!