The metric of Poe's Raven.htm

Not that least obeisance made he; not an instant 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 they 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 marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,

though its answer little meaning‑‑little relevancy bore;

For we cannot help agreeing that no sublunary being

Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door‑‑

Bird or beast upon 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 farther than 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."

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

Wondering 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‑‑so, when Hope he would adjure,

Stem Despair returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared adjure‑‑

That sad answer, "Nevermore!"

But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,

Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in from of bird, 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 lamplight gloated o'er,

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,

She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer

Swung by angels whose faint foot‑falls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried "thy God hath lent thee‑‑by these angels he hath sent thee

Respite‑‑respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Let me 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 my 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 name Lenore‑‑

Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sing 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 that is dreaming,

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating of the floor

Shall be lifted‑‑nevermore!

1	2	3	4	5	6	7	8	silab
- q . ‒	- q ‒-	- q . ‒	- q ‒-	- q . ‒	- q ‒-	- q . ‒	- q ‒-	medi
¯	7	¯	7	¯	7	¯	7	canti
Once	u ‒‒	pon	a	mid ‒	night	drea ‒	ry,	1	A
while	I	pon ‒	d'red,	weak	and	wea ‒-	ry,	2	A
O ‒‒-	ver	ma ‒-	ny_ a	quaint	and	cu ‒‒-	rious	3	X
vo ‒‒	lume	of	for ‒‒	got ‒‒	ten	lore,		4	B
While	I	nod ‒	ded,	near ‒	ly	nap ‒-	ping,	5	C
sud ‒-	den ‒	ly	there	came	a	tap ‒‒	ping,	6	C
As	of	so ‒‒	meone	gen ‒-	tly	rap ‒-	ping,	7	C
rap ‒	ping	at	my	cham -	ber	door.		8	B
"Tis	some	vi ‒‒	si ‒‒‒	tor,"	I	mut ‒-	t'red,	9	Y
"tap -	ping	at	my	cham -	ber	door.		10	B
On ‒-	ly	this,	and	no ‒‒	thing	more."		11	B