“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."
Once upon a midnight dreary while I pondered weak and weary
It's late at night, and late in the year after midnight on a December evening, to be precise. A man is sitting in his room, half reading, half falling asleep, and trying to forget his lost love, Lenore. Suddenly, he hears someone or something knocking at the door.
Each separate dying ember 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