По Эдгар Аллан
«Лирика»

door;

This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no

longer,

"Sir", said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness

I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came

rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my

chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you" - here I opened

wide the door;

Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there

wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared

to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave

no token,

And 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.

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 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.

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