The Raven
Text z Príbehu
- Once upon a midnight dreary ,while I pondered, weak and weary, Over a many quaint and curios volume of forgotten lore--
- “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door— Only this and nothing more.”
- While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
- Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
- Lenore
- 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 curtainThrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
- “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;— This it is and nothing more.”
- So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
- “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”
- Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, —here I opened wide the door;— Darkness there and nothing more.
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