document.write("Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,<br />Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore--<br />While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,<br />As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door--<br />\\\"\\\'Tis some visitor,\\\" I muttered, \\\"tapping at my chamber door--<br />               Only this and nothing more.\\\"<br /><br />Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;<br />And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.<br />Eagerly I wished the morrow;--vainly I had sought to borrow<br />From my books surcease of sorrow--sorrow for the lost Lenore--<br />For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore--<br />               Nameless here for evermore.<br /><br />And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain<br />Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;<br />So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,<br />\\\"\\\'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door--<br />Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;--<br />               This it is and nothing more.\\\"<br /><br />Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,<br />\\\"Sir,\\\" said I, \\\"or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;<br />But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,<br />And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,<br />That I scarce was sure I heard you\\\"--here I opened wide the door;----<br />               Darkness there and nothing more.<br /><br />Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,<br />Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;<br />But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,<br />And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, \\\"Lenore?\\\"<br />This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, \\\"Lenore!\\\"--<br />               Merely this and nothing more.<br /><br />Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,<br />Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.<br />\\\"Surely,\\\" said I, \\\"surely that is something at my window lattice;<br />Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore--<br />Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;--<br />               \\\'Tis the wind and nothing more!\\\"<br /><br />Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,<br />In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;<br />Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;<br />But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door--<br />Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door--<br />                Perched, and sat, and nothing more.<br /><br />Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,<br />By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,<br />\\\"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,\\\" I said, \\\"art sure no craven,<br />Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore--<br />Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night\\\'s Plutonian shore!\\\"<br />               Quoth the Raven \\\"Nevermore.\\\"<br /><br />Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,<br />Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore;<br />For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being<br />Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door--<br />Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,<br />               With such name as \\\"Nevermore.\\\"<br /><br />But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only<br />That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.<br />Nothing further then he uttered--not a feather then he fluttered--<br />Till I scarcely more than muttered \\\"Other friends have flown before--<br />On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.\\\"<br />               Then the bird said \\\"Nevermore.\\\"<br /><br />Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,<br />\\\"Doubtless,\\\" said I, \\\"what it utters is its only stock and store<br />Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster<br />Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore--<br />Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore<br />               Of \\\'Never--nevermore.\\\'\\\"<br /><br />But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,<br />Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;<br />Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking<br />Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore--<br />What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore<br />               Meant in croaking \\\"Nevermore.\\\"<br /><br />This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing<br />To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom\\\'s core;<br />This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining<br />On the cushion\\\'s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o\\\'er,<br />But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o\\\'er,<br />               She shall press, ah, nevermore!<br /><br />Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer<br />Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.<br />\\\"Wretch,\\\" I cried, \\\"thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee<br />Respite--respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;<br />Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!\\\"<br />               Quoth the Raven \\\"Nevermore.\\\"<br /><br />\\\"Prophet!\\\" said I, \\\"thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!--<br />Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,<br />Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--<br />On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore--<br />Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!\\\"<br />               Quoth the Raven \\\"Nevermore.\\\"<br /><br />\\\"Prophet!\\\" said I, \\\"thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!<br />By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--<br />Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,<br />It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore--<br />Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.\\\"<br />                Quoth the Raven \\\"Nevermore.\\\"<br /><br />\\\"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend!\\\" I shrieked, upstarting--<br />\\\"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night\\\'s Plutonian shore!<br />Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!<br />Leave my loneliness unbroken!--quit the bust above my door!<br />Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!\\\"<br />               Quoth the Raven \\\"Nevermore.\\\"<br /><br />And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting<br />On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;<br />And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon\\\'s that is dreaming,<br />And the lamp-light o\\\'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;<br />And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor<br />               Shall be lifted--nevermore!");