Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more.”
“’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door— Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chaber door This it is and nothing more.”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door— Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore— Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor. nevermore!