Edgar Allan Poe - The Raven (1845)

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With me poetry has been not a purpose, but a passion; and the passions should be held in reverence: they must not — they cannot at will be excited, with an eye to the paltry compensations, or the more paltry commendations, of mankind.

Edgar Allan Poe
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.

Edgar Allan Poe
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted — nevermore!

Edgar Allan Poe
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.

Edgar Allan Poe
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.

Edgar Allan Poe
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Edgar Allan Poe
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.

Edgar Allan Poe
"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."

Edgar Allan Poe
"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."

Edgar Allan Poe
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Edgar Allan Poe
Eagerly I wished the morrow,—vainly had I 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.

Edgar Allan Poe
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil!"

Edgar Allan Poe
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.

Edgar Allan Poe
"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.

Edgar Allan Poe
Science! true daughter of old Time thou art Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes! Why prey'st thou thus upon the poet's heart, Vulture! whose wings are dull realities!

Edgar Allan Poe
Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!

Edgar Allan Poe