The Raven

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  • 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 come a tapping, As of some one gently, rapping at my chamber door.
  • "tis some visitor, "i muttered, "tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nothing more.
  • and the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before: so that now, to still the beating of my heart, i stood repeating, "tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-  darkness there, and nothing more
  • but, the raven, sitting lonely in the plastic bust, spoke only that one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. nothing further then he uttered, "other friends have flown before-on the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.then the bird said, ¨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 that is dreaming, and the lamplight oér 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!
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