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Rule: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Line-01-001: ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Line-01-002: Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore {{1845-01: , //1849-02: — }}
Line-01-003: While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
Line-01-004: As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
Line-01-005: “ ’Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door —
Line-01-006: [[right-justified]] Only this {{1845-01: , }} and nothing more.”
Line-01-007: Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December {{1845-01: , //1849-02: ; }}
Line-01-008: And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Line-01-009: Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow
Line-01-010: From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —
Line-01-011: For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Line-01-012: [[right-justified]] Nameless {{1845-01: here //1849-02: here }} for evermore.
Line-01-013: And the silken {{1849-02: , }} sad {{1849-02: , }} uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Line-01-014: Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
Line-01-015: So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
Line-01-016: “ ’Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Line-01-017: Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
Line-01-018: [[right-justified]] This it is {{1845-01: , }} and nothing more.” [page 2:]
Line-01-019: Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
Line-01-020: “Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
Line-01-021: But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
Line-01-022: And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
Line-01-023: That I scarce was sure I heard you” — here I opened wide the door; ——
Line-01-024: [[right-justified]] Darkness there {{1845-01: , }} and nothing more.
Line-01-025: Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Line-01-026: Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
Line-01-027: But the silence was unbroken, and the {{1845-01: darkness // 1849-02: stillness }} gave no token,
Line-01-028: And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore {{1845-01: ! //1849-02: ? }} ”
Line-01-029: This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”
Line-01-030: [[right-justified]] Merely this {{1845-01: , }} and nothing more.
Line-01-031: Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Line-01-032: Soon {{1845-01: again }} I heard {{1849-02: again }} a tapping somewhat louder than before.
Line-01-033: “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Line-01-034: Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore —
Line-01-035: Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; —
Line-01-036: [[right-justified]] ‘Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Line-01-037: Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
Line-01-038: In there stepped a stately {{1845-01: raven //1849-02: Raven }} of the saintly days of yore;
Line-01-039: Not the least obeisance made he; not {{1845-01: an instant //1849-02: a minute }} stopped or stayed he;
Line-01-040: But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door —
Line-01-041: Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door —
Line-01-042: [[right-justified]] Perched, and sat, and nothing more. [page 3:]
Line-01-043: Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Line-01-044: By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
Line-01-045: “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Line-01-046: Ghastly grim and ancient {{1845-01: raven //1849-02: Raven }} wandering from the Nightly shore —
Line-01-047: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!”
Line-01-048: [[right-justified]] Quoth the {{1845-01: raven, //1849-02: Raven }} “Nevermore.”
Line-01-049: Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Line-01-050: Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore;
Line-01-051: For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Line-01-052: Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Line-01-053: Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
Line-01-054: [[right-justified]] With such name as “Nevermore.”
Line-01-055: But the {{1845-01: raven //1849-02: Raven }}, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
Line-01-056: That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Line-01-057: Nothing farther then he uttered — not a feather then he fluttered —
Line-01-058: Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before —
Line-01-059: On the morrow he will leave me, as my {{1845-01: hopes //1849-02: Hopes }} have flown before.”
Line-01-060: [[right-justified]] Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Line-01-061: Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
Line-01-062: “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Line-01-063: Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Line-01-064: Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore —
Line-01-065: Till the dirges of his Hope that {{1849-02x: ever certain //1849-02a: melancholy }} burden bore
Line-01-066: [[right-justified]] Of “Never — nevermore.” [page 4:]
Line-01-067: But the {{1845-01: raven //1849-02: Raven }} still beguiling all my {{1845-01: sad soul //1849-02: fancy }} into smiling,
Line-01-068: Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Line-01-069: Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Line-01-070: Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore —
Line-01-071: What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Line-01-072: [[right-justified]] Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
Line-01-073: This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
Line-01-074: To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
Line-01-075: This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
Line-01-076: On the cushion's velvet lining that the {{1845-01: lamp light //1849-02: lamp-light }} gloated o’er,
Line-01-077: But whose {{1845-01: velvet violet //1849-02: velvet-violet }} lining with the {{1845-01: lamp light //1849-02: lamp-light }} gloating o’er,
Line-01-078: [[right-justified]] She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Line-01-079: Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Line-01-080: Swung by {{1845-01: angels whose faint //1849-02: Seraphim whose }} foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Line-01-081: “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee
Line-01-082: Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore {{1845-01: ! //1849-02: ; }}
Line-01-083: Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Line-01-084: [[right-justified]] Quoth the {{1845-01: raven, //1849-02: Raven }} “Nevermore.”
Line-01-085: “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil! — prophet still, if bird or devil! —
Line-01-086: Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Line-01-087: Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted —
Line-01-088: On this home by Horror haunted — tell me truly, I implore —
Line-01-089: Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!”
Line-01-090: [[right-justified]] Quoth the {{1845-01: raven, //1849-02: Raven }} “Nevermore.” [page 5:]
Line-01-091: “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil {{1849-02: ! }} — prophet still, if bird or devil!
Line-01-092: By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both adore —
Line-01-093: Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
Line-01-094: It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
Line-01-095: Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Line-01-096: [[right-justified]] Quoth the {{1845-01: raven, //1849-02: Raven }} “Nevermore.”
Line-01-097: “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting —
Line-01-098: “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Line-01-099: Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Line-01-100: Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the bust above my door!
Line-01-101: Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Line-01-102: [[right-justified]] Quoth the {{1845-01: raven, //1849-02: Raven }} “Nevermore.”
Line-01-103: And the {{1845-01: raven //1849-02: Raven }}, never flitting, still is sitting, {{1845-01: still //1849-02: still }} is sitting
Line-01-104: On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
Line-01-105: And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
Line-01-106: And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
Line-01-107: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Line-01-108: [[right-justified]] Shall be lifted — nevermore!
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[[This version gives an alternate form of the same text, with indications for Poe's changes that approximate Poe's markings:]]
THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS.
——————————————
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.
“ ’Tis some visiter,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door —
Only this <<,>> and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December <<,>> <;>
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
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. <It.>
And the silken <,> sad <,> uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
“ ’Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is <<,>> and nothing more.” [page 2:]
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 <<dark>>ness gave no token, <still>
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 <<again>> a tapping somewhat louder than before. <tr:>
“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 <<r>>aven of the saintly days of yore; <R>
Not the least obeisance made he; not <<an instant>> <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. [page 3:]
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 <<r>>aven wandering from the Nightly shore — <R>
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the <<r>>aven <<,>> “Nevermore.” <R>
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 upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the <<r>>aven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only <R>
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther 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 <<h>>opes have flown before.” <H>
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.” [page 4:]
But the <<r>>aven still beguiling all my <<sad soul>> into smiling, <R> <fancy>
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 <<angels whose faint>> foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. <Seraphim whose>
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore<<!>> <;>
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the <<r>>aven <<,>> “Nevermore.” <R>
“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 <<r>>aven <<,>> “Nevermore.” <R> [page 5:]
“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 <<r>>aven <<,>> “Nevermore.” <R>
“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 <<r>>aven <<,>> “Nevermore.” <R>
And the <<r>>aven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting <R> <It.>
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!
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Notes:
For an explanation of the formatting used in this Study Text, see editorial policies and methods. This format is very much an experiment, particularly for poetry. For the version with changes applied, see the full poem.
Because Poe's changes here are made in his own copy of The Raven and other Poems, the pagination of that edition has been retained in the present text.
The cancelled change on line 65 was noted by Thomas Ollive Mabbott in his 1941 facsimile edition. In the original, Mabbott inserted a note, written on Century Association stationery. Commenting on this line, he states that he thought the word was “everlasting” but allowed that “something beginning ‘sad” is also possible.” Apparently by 1941, he had settled on “ev[er cer]tain” as noted on p. xx. The change itself is not visible in the facsimile text of the poem.
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[S:0 - comparative] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Poems - The Raven (Study Text - RAOP-JLG)