Once upon a midnight dreary as I wandered, wet and weary Through the silent shrouded dampness of the cloudy grayish fog As I searched in the night for some tiny ray of light I saw, to my surprise, a single window glowing bright Framing a man, his face in shadow in the candle’s flickering light— A single candle’s faltering light.
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December And the frigid air of night froze drops of water on the glass So cold was I, I started tapping—I could not keep myself from rapping With my beak, frantically rapping (though I knew it was quite crass) Hoping he would hear me tapping loudly on the glass And let me in to warm myself at last
But his hesitation filled me with a heavy hopeless sadness At the window looking in just like so many times before Still, my need and my desire kept me near the glowing fire Though I watched with great confusion as he stood before the door Muttering to himself as he stood before the door His shadow wavering on the floor.
Presently he seemed much stronger, hesitating then no longer He stood up straight and then seemed to address the door at length Thinking that my rapping and believing that my tapping That had woken him from napping was a visitor coming late, Then grasping the handle he flung open the door with all his strength, Shoving it with no restraint.
What exactly he expected, when he mistakenly directed His attention and his interest at the dark and silent door Deep into the darkness peering, why he stood there, doubting, fearing— This I wondered as I waited (Still I'm not entirely sure) And an echo murmured back to him the whispered word "Lenore!"— This he said, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, with his eyes in sadness burning I resigned myself to tapping (yet much louder than before) "Surely," said he "surely that is something at my window lattice." Then he stepped forth and opened the window as he had the door And with a movement of my wings I landed with a slight and agile soar
My shadow cast as some unseemly bird of lore.
My raggedness then beguiling his sad fancy into smiling As I settled on the pallid bust of Pallas o’er the door I scarcely could contain my…