Der Rabe

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THE RAVEN:

Once upon a midnight dreary,

while I pondered

weak and....

weary,

While I nodded,

nearly napping,

suddenly there came a tapping

As if someone 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 mefilled 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,

That I scarce was sure I heard you

here I opened wide the door;

Darkness there

and nothing more.

But the silence was unbroken, and the

stillness 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;

Tis the wind and nothing more!

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

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my

chamber door

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,

Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,"

I said, art sure no craven, Ghastly grim

and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly

shore

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the

Nights Plutonian shore!

Quoth the Raven,

"Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl

to hear discourse so plainly,

Though its answer little meaninglittle

relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no living

human being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above

his chamber door

Bird or beast upon the

sculptured bust above his chamber door,

With such name as Nevermore.

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

not a feather then he fluttered

Till I scarcely more than muttered

Other friends have flown before

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes

have flown before.

Then the bird said,

"Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken

by reply so aptly spoken, Doubtless, said

I,

what 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

Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy

burden bore

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

What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt,

and ominous bird of yore

Meant in croaking Nevermore.

This I sat engaged in guessing,

but no syllable expressing

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into

my bosoms core;

This and more I sat divining,

On the cushions velvet lining that the lamp-

light gloated oer,

But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-

light gloating oer,

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.

Wretch, I cried,

thy God hath lent thee

by these angels he hath sent thee

Respiterespite and nepenthe

from thy memories of Lenore;

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe

and forget

this lost Lenore!

Quoth the Raven,

"Nevermore."

Prophet! said I, thing of evil!

prophet still, if bird or devil!

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest

tossed thee here ashore,

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert

land enchanted

On this home by Horror haunted

tell me truly, I implore

Is thereis there balm in Gilead?

tell metell me, I implore!

Quoth the Raven,

"Nevermore."

Prophet! said I, thing of evil!

prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that Heaven that bends above us

by that God we both adore

Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within

the distant Aidenn,

It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the

angels name Lenore

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the

angels name Lenore.

Quoth the Raven,

"Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting,

bird or fiend! I shrieked, upstarting

Get thee back into the tempest and the

Nights Plutonian shore!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie

thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken!

quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take

thy form from off my door!

Quoth the Raven,

"Nevermore."

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 demons that is dreaming,

And the lamp-light oer him streaming throws

his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies

floating on the floor

Shall be liftednevermore!

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