Omnia - The Raven lyrics

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 someone gently rapping
Tapping at my chamber door
"'Tis some visitor, " I muttered
"tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more"

Ah, distinctly I remember it was
In a bleak December
And each separate dying ember wrought
It's 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
And the silken sad uncertain rustling
Of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic
Terrors never felt before
Presently to still the beating of my heart
I stood repeating
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance
At my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance
At my chamber door-
Merely this, and nothing more"

Out into the 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 stillness gave no token
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 a tapping
Somewhat louder than before
"Surely, " said I
"surely that is someone 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 wide I flung the shutter, when
With many a flirt and flutter
In there stepped a stately Raven of
The saintly days of yore
Not the least obeisance made he not
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

Soon that 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 raven wandering
On the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is
On this Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore"

Now 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 further then he uttered- not
A feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered
"other friends have gone before-
On the morrow he will leave me
As my hopes have flown before"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore"

Then methought the air grew denser
Perfumed by an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled
On the tufted floor
Once more on 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"

"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 isle 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 Raven, "Nevermore"

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of
Evil- prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven stretched 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 sign in 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"

Now 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's 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 on the floor
Will be lifted- nevermore!