mirror of
https://github.com/Oreolek/Togataltu.git
synced 2024-05-04 10:08:28 +03:00
140 lines
6.4 KiB
Plaintext
140 lines
6.4 KiB
Plaintext
O''nce upo''n a mi''dnight dre''ary,
|
|
whi''le I po''ndered we''ak and we''ary,
|
|
O''ver ma''ny a qua''int and cu''rious
|
|
vo''lume of forgo''tten lo''re,
|
|
Whi''le I no''dded, ne''arly na''pping,
|
|
su''ddenly the''re ca''me a ta''pping,
|
|
As of so''me o''ne ge''ntly ra''pping,
|
|
ra''pping at my cha''mber do''or.
|
|
`'Tis so''me vi''sitor,' I mu''ttered,
|
|
`ta''pping at my cha''mber do''or -
|
|
O''nly this, and no''thing mo''re.'
|
|
|
|
Ah, disti''nctly I reme''mber
|
|
it was in the ble''ak Dece''mber,
|
|
And e''ach se''parate dy''ing e''mber
|
|
wro''ught its gho''st upo''n the flo''or.
|
|
E''agerly I wi''shed the mo''rrow;
|
|
- va''inly I had so''ught to bo''rrow
|
|
From my bo''oks surce''ase of so''rrow
|
|
- so''rrow for the lost Leno''re -
|
|
For the ra''re and ra''diant ma''iden
|
|
whom the a''ngels na''med Leno''re -
|
|
Na''meless he''re for e''vermore.
|
|
|
|
And the si''lken sad unce''rtain
|
|
ru''stling of e''ach pu''rple cu''rtain
|
|
Thri''lled me - fi''lled me with fanta''stic
|
|
te''rrors ne''ver felt befo''re;
|
|
So that now, to still the be''ating
|
|
of my hea''rt, I sto''od repe''ating
|
|
`'Tis so''me vi''sitor entre''ating
|
|
e''ntrance at my cha''mber do''or -
|
|
So''me la''te vi''sitor entre''ating
|
|
e''ntrance at my cha''mber do''or; -
|
|
This it is, and no''thing mo''re,'
|
|
|
|
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; -
|
|
'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 Night's Plutonian shore!'
|
|
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
|
|
|
|
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
|
|
Though its answer little meaning - little 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 above 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 further 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
|
|
Of "Never-nevermore."'
|
|
|
|
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul 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 bosom's core;
|
|
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
|
|
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
|
|
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
|
|
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 has sent thee
|
|
Respite - respite 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 there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell 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 named Lenore -
|
|
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named 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 Night's 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 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
|
|
Shall be lifted - nevermore! |