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The Raven
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 named 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,'
Presently my soul grew
stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `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 scarce was sure I heard you' -
here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness
there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I
stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal
ever dared to dream before
But the
silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no
token,
And the only word there spoken
was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This
I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
`Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber
turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat
louder than before.
Surely,' said I,
`surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and
this mystery explore -
Let my heart be
still a moment and this mystery explore; -