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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.”
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 an instant 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.
