 Once, upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, while I nodded, merely napping, suddenly there came a tapping as of someone gently wrapping, wrapping at my chamber door. To some visitor, I muttered, wrapping at my chamber door, only this and nothing more. 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 book's surcease of sorrow, 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, so still the beating of my heart I stood repeating, to some visitor and treating entrance at my chamber door, some late visitor and treating entrance at my chamber door, this is it 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 wrapping, 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, soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before, surely, said I, surely that is something at my window lattice, let me see then where that is and this mystery explore, let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore, tis 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 your, not the least obeisance made he, not a minute stopped or stayed he, but with mean of lord or lady perched above my chamber door, perched upon a bust of palace just above the chamber door, perched and sat and nothing more. But this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, by the graven stern decorum of the countenance at war, though my crest be shorn and shaven thou, I said, art sure 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, never more. Much I marveled, this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore, for we cannot help agreeing that no living human being ever yet was blessed was seeing bird above his chamber door, bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, with such a name as never more. But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only that one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther than he muttered, not a feather then he fluttered, 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, never more. Stardled 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 won burden bore, till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore of never, never more. But the raven, still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of a bird and bust endure. Then, upon the velvet sinking, I but took 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, never more. This, I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing to the foul 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 lamp light gloated over. But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp light gloating over she shall press, ah, never more. Then, me thought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censor, swung by Seraphim, whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. Wretch, I cried, thy God hath lent me, by these angels he hath sent thee, respite, respite, and epentee from thy memories of Lenore. Quaff, oh quaff this kind, and epentee, and forget this lost Lenore, both the raven, never more. Prophet, said I, thing of evil, profit still if bird of devil, whether temper sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted, on this home by horror haunted, tell me truly I implore, is there, is there balm in Gilead? Tell me, tell me I implore, both the raven, never more. Prophet, said I, thing of evil, profit still if bird or devil, by that heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, tell this soul with sorrow laden, if within the distant Aden it shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore, clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore, both the raven, never more. Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend, I shrieked up starting, get thee back into the tempest and the night's plutonian shore, leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul has 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. Both the raven, never more. And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting, on the pallid bust of palace just above my chamber door, and his eyes of all the seeming of a demons that is dreaming, and the lamplight or 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.