The Raven

Once upon a midnight dreary, while i pondered, weak and weary,
O'er many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While i nodded, nearly napping, presently there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,
"Tis some visitor" I muttered, "rapping at my chamber door,
Only this and nothing more."


Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And the fire's last dying ember had 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 Lenore.
For the rare and radiant whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here for evermore.


....


Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madame, 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.


....


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 staid he,
But with mien of lord or lady, perched upon my chamber door,
Perched on a bust of Pallas (Athena) just above my chamber door,
Perched and sat, and nothing more.


...


"On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before,"
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 enchanted,"
"In this home by Horror haunted, tell me truly I implore,"
"Is there, is there, Balm in Gilead, tell me--tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!"


........


"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 door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."


And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting,
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light 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--nevermore!

Edgar Alan Poe (1809-1849) American.
Source: Black Butler vol III