Explore "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.