Acheron

It was a dreary midnight, while I pondered feeling weak and weary. I sat on an elegant red fabric chair by a soothing fireplace; many quaint and curious volumes of forgotten lore on bookshelf surround me in my humble room.

While I nodded my head nearly sleeping, when suddenly I heard a tapping sound. It sounded as if someone were gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered to myself, “tapping at my chamber door... Only this and nothing more.” As I got comfortable back in my chair, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. I eagerly wished tomorrow to come sooner, for the sun to spread its light upon my chamber; vainly I had sought to borrow from my books surcease of sorrow.. sorrow for my lost Lenore. My beautiful and rare maiden, whom I felt as if angels themselves had named my lovely Lenore, was now nameless here for evermore.

Feeling silken, and sad.. suddenly I heard an uncertain rustling of each purple curtain. The sounds thrilled me and filled me with fantastic terrors I have never felt before! I tried to calm down by telling myself: "‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.. Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. This is it and nothing more.”

My soul grew stronger at that moment. But upon opening it as wide as it could... I only saw darkness on the other side, and nothing more. It was deep into that piercing darkness, long I stood there wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming what no mortal ever dream before; but the silence was left unbroken.. until there was only word spoken from the dark emptiness, I the whispered word,* “Lenore?” And an echo murmured back the word: “Lenore!” as if the dark had heard me speak.

I began to think I was hearing things, merely this and nothing more. I closed the door, believing it was only the echo of my voice that had bounced off walls back to me. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. “Surely,” I said, “surely that is something at my window lattice; let me see what thereat is, and this mystery explore.. Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore. ’Tis the wind and nothing more!” I rushed to the window and opened it. Here when I flung the shutter, and a bird fluttered inside. There stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made you not a minute stopped or stayed you; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door; Perched on top of a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door. I watched you as you just perched and sat. Did nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance you wore, “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I began, “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!” I asked you, looking up at you from where you sat on the bust of Pallas just above my chamber door.