The Raven- Part 1
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."
Ah,
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 books surcease of
sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For
the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name
Lenore-Nameless here for
evermore.
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;-
This
it is, and nothing more."
Edgar Allen Poe
