"Tis some visitor tapping at my chamber door- Only this, and nonthing more."
From his books surcease of sorrow- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
"Sir or Madam, 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 was scarce was sure I heard you."
Open here he flung the shutter when,with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore
Thou thy crest be shorne and shaven, thou art no craven, Gastly grim and ancient Raven wondering from the nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Wretch,thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!
Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend, 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! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!