My boy Edgar Allan Poe going to lay down a flow 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 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’s that is dreaming And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Lenore Lenore Is there, is there Lenore Nevermore, Nevermore Quoth the Raven Nevermore 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 Tis the wind and nothing more 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’s that is dreaming And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Lenore Lenore Is there, is there Lenore Nevermore, Nevermore Quoth the Raven Nevermore Lenore Prophet said I, thing of evil Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Lenore Nevermore Nevermore My soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted nevermore Lenore Lenore Is there, is there Lenore Nevermore, Nevermore Quoth the Raven Nevermore
