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  • Artist Info: The Raven By: Edgar Allen Poe<br />
    <br />
    Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,<br />
    Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,<br />
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,<br />
    As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.<br />
    `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -<br />
    Only this, and nothing more.'<br />
    <br />
    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,<br />
    And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.<br />
    Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow<br />
    From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -<br />
    For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -<br />
    Nameless here for evermore.<br />
    <br />
    And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain<br />
    Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;<br />
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating<br />
    `'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -<br />
    Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -<br />
    This it is, and nothing more,'<br />
    <br />
    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,<br />
    `Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;<br />
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,<br />
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,<br />
    That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -<br />
    Darkness there, and nothing more.<br />
    <br />
    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,<br />
    Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before<br />
    But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,<br />
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'<br />
    This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'<br />
    Merely this and nothing more.<br />
    <br />
    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,<br />
    Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.<br />
    `Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;<br />
    Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -<br />
    Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -<br />
    'Tis the wind and nothing more!'<br />
    <br />
    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,<br />
    In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.<br />
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;<br />
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -<br />
    Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -<br />
    Perched, and sat, and nothing more.<br />
    <br />
    Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,<br />
    By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,<br />
    `Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.<br />
    Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -<br />
    Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'<br />
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<br />
    <br />
    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,<br />
    Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;<br />
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being<br />
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -<br />
    Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,<br />
    With such name as `Nevermore.'<br />
    <br />
    But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,<br />
    That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.<br />
    Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -<br />
    Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -<br />
    On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'<br />
    Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'<br />
    <br />
    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,<br />
    `Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,<br />
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster<br />
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -<br />
    Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore<br />
    Of "Never-nevermore."'<br />
    <br />
    But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,<br />
    Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;<br />
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking<br />
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -<br />
    What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore<br />
    Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'<br />
    <br />
    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing<br />
    To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;<br />
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining<br />
    On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,<br />
    But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,<br />
    She shall press, ah, nevermore!<br />
    <br />
    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer<br />
    Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.<br />
    `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee<br />
    Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!<br />
    Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'<br />
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<br />
    <br />
    `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -<br />
    Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,<br />
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -<br />
    On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -<br />
    Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'<br />
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<br />
    <br />
    `Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!<br />
    By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -<br />
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,<br />
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -<br />
    Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'<br />
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<br />
    <br />
    `Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -<br />
    `Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!<br />
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!<br />
    Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!<br />
    Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'<br />
    Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'<br />
    <br />
    And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting<br />
    On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;<br />
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,<br />
    And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;<br />
    And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor<br />
    Shall be lifted - nevermore!<br />
    <br />
    my favorite poem by my favorite poet.
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