"Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore\xe2\x80\x94 While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. \xe2\x80\x9c\xe2\x80\x99Tis some visitor,\xe2\x80\x9d I muttered, \xe2\x80\x9ctapping at my chamber door\xe2\x80\x94 Only this and nothing more.\xe2\x80\x9d 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;\xe2\x80\x94vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow\xe2\x80\x94sorrow for the lost Lenore\xe2\x80\x94 For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore\xe2\x80\x94 Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me\xe2\x80\x94filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating \xe2\x80\x9c\xe2\x80\x99Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door\xe2\x80\x94 Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;\xe2\x80\x94 This it is and nothing more.\xe2\x80\x9d Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, \xe2\x80\x9cSir,\xe2\x80\x9d said I, \xe2\x80\x9cor 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\xe2\x80\x9d\xe2\x80\x94here I opened wide the door;\xe2\x80\x94 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 stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, \xe2\x80\x9cLenore?\xe2\x80\x9d This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, \xe2\x80\x9cLenore!\xe2\x80\x9d\xe2\x80\x94 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. \xe2\x80\x9cSurely,\xe2\x80\x9d said I, \xe2\x80\x9csurely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore\xe2\x80\x94 Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;\xe2\x80\x94 \xe2\x80\x99Tis the wind and nothing more!\xe2\x80\x9d Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door\xe2\x80\x94 Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door\xe2\x80\x94 Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, \xe2\x80\x9cThough thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,\xe2\x80\x9d I said, \xe2\x80\x9cart sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore\xe2\x80\x94 Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night\xe2\x80\x99s Plutonian shore!\xe2\x80\x9d Quoth the Raven \xe2\x80\x9cNevermore.\xe2\x80\x9d Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning\xe2\x80\x94little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door\xe2\x80\x94 Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as \xe2\x80\x9cNevermore.\xe2\x80\x9d But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered\xe2\x80\x94not a feather then he fluttered\xe2\x80\x94 Till I scarcely more than muttered \xe2\x80\x9cOther friends have flown before\xe2\x80\x94 On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.\xe2\x80\x9d Then the bird said \xe2\x80\x9cNevermore.\xe2\x80\x9d Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, \xe2\x80\x9cDoubtless,\xe2\x80\x9d said I, \xe2\x80\x9cwhat it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore\xe2\x80\x94 Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of \xe2\x80\x98Never\xe2\x80\x94nevermore\xe2\x80\x99.\xe2\x80\x9d But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore\xe2\x80\x94 What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking \xe2\x80\x9cNevermore.\xe2\x80\x9d This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom\xe2\x80\x99s core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion\xe2\x80\x99s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o\xe2\x80\x99er, But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o\xe2\x80\x99er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. \xe2\x80\x9cWretch,\xe2\x80\x9d I cried, \xe2\x80\x9cthy God hath lent thee\xe2\x80\x94by these angels he hath sent thee Respite\xe2\x80\x94respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore; Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!\xe2\x80\x9d Quoth the Raven \xe2\x80\x9cNevermore.\xe2\x80\x9d \xe2\x80\x9cProphet!\xe2\x80\x9d said I, \xe2\x80\x9cthing of evil!\xe2\x80\x94prophet still, if bird or devil!\xe2\x80\x94 Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted\xe2\x80\x94 On this home by Horror haunted\xe2\x80\x94tell me truly, I implore\xe2\x80\x94 Is there\xe2\x80\x94is there balm in Gilead?\xe2\x80\x94tell me\xe2\x80\x94tell me, I implore!\xe2\x80\x9d Quoth the Raven \xe2\x80\x9cNevermore.\xe2\x80\x9d \xe2\x80\x9cProphet!\xe2\x80\x9d said I, \xe2\x80\x9cthing of evil!\xe2\x80\x94prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us\xe2\x80\x94by that God we both adore\xe2\x80\x94 Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore\xe2\x80\x94 Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.\xe2\x80\x9d Quoth the Raven \xe2\x80\x9cNevermore.\xe2\x80\x9d \xe2\x80\x9cBe that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!\xe2\x80\x9d I shrieked, upstarting\xe2\x80\x94 \xe2\x80\x9cGet thee back into the tempest and the Night\xe2\x80\x99s Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!\xe2\x80\x94quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!\xe2\x80\x9d Quoth the Raven \xe2\x80\x9cNevermore.\xe2\x80\x9d And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon\xe2\x80\x99s that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o\xe2\x80\x99er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted\xe2\x80\x94nevermore!"
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