the raven

dabblet.css

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dabblet.html

<h1>the Raven</h1>
<div class="raven">
<p>
<span class="a">Once upon</span><span class="b"> a midnight dreary,</span><span class="c">while I pondered weak</span><span class="d"> and weary,
Over many a</span><span class="e"> quaint and curious volume of</span><span class="f"> forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly</span><span class="g"> napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of</span><span class="h"> some one gently rapping, rapping at</span><span class="i"> my</span><span class="j"> chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I</span><span class="k"> muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -</span>
<span class="l">Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly I </span><span class="m">remember it was in the bleak December,
And</span><span class="n"> each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon</span><span class="o"> the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; &mdash;  vainly I</span><span class="p"> had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of</span><span class="q"> sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare</span><span class="r"> and radiant maiden whom the angels named</span><span class="s"> Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the</span><span class="t"> silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain</span><span class="u">
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never</span><span class="v"> felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my</span><span class="w"> heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating</span><span class="x"> entrance at my chamber door &mdash;
Some late</span><span class="y"> visitor entreating entrance at my chamber</span><span class="z"> door; &mdash;
This it is, and nothing more,'

Presently</span><span class="zz"> my soul  grew stronger; hesitating then no </span><span class="aa">longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your</span><span class="ab"> forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently</span><span class="ac"> you came rapping,
And so faintly </span><span class="ad">you</span><span class="ae"> came tapping, tapping at my</span><span class="af"> chamber door,
That I scarce</span><span class="ag"> was sure I heard you' &mdash; here</span><span class="ah"> I opened wide the door; &mdash;</span><span class="ai">
Darkness there, and nothing</span><span class="aj"> more.

Deep into that darkness</span><span class="ak"> peering, long I stood there</span><span class="al"> wondering, fearing,
Doubting,</span><span class="am"> dreaming dreams no mortal</span><span class="an"> ever dared to dream before;</span><span class="ao">
But the silence was unbroken</span><span class="ap"> and</span><span class="aq"> the darkness</span><span class="ar"> gave no</span><span class="as"> token,</span><span class="at">
And&hellip;</span>
</p>
</div>
<p class="moon">
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.
</p>
<p>
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 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!'
</p><p>
Open here 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.
</p><p>
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 raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
</p><p>
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 above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
</p><p>
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 further 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 hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
</p><p>
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."'
</p><p>
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
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.'
</p><p>
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!
</p><p>
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
</p>
`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 raven, `Nevermore.'
</p><p>
`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 named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
</p><p>
`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 raven, `Nevermore.'
</p><p>
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'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!
</p>

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