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, Soon I heard again a tapping, somewhat 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; 'T is 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 an instant 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. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the 66 grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore; 'Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I 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 marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly Though its anwer little meaning, little relevancy bore: For we cannot help agreeing that no living human be ing Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, 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 further then he uttered he fluttered not a feather then 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 the melancholy burden bore Of 'Never-nevermore.'' 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 Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore." This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This, and more, I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining, with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim, whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. 66 'Wretch!" I cried, "thy God hath lent thee, by these angels he hath sent thee Respite respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, O 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 Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land en chanted, "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil-prophet still, if bird or devil! By that heaven that bends above us - by that God we Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" 66 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! my door! quit the bust above Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form |