By a route obscure and lonely,

      Haunted by ill angels only,

      Where an Eidolon, named Night,

      On a black throne reigns upright,

      I have reached these lands but newly

      From an ultimate dim Thule:

      From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,

        Out of Space – out of Time.

      Bottomless vales and boundless floods,

      And chasms and caves and Titan woods,

      With forms that no man can discover

      For the tears that drip all over;

      Mountains toppling evermore

      Into seas without a shore;

      Seas that restlessly aspire,

      Surging, unto skies of fire;

      Lakes that endlessly outspread

      Their lone waters, lone and dead, —

      Their still waters, still and chilly

      With the snows of the lolling lily.

      By the lakes that thus outspread

      Their lone waters, lone and dead, —

      Their sad waters, sad and chilly

      With the snows of the lolling lily;

      By the mountains – near the river

      Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever;

      By the gray woods, by the swamp

      Where the toad and the newt encamp;

      By the dismal tarns and pools

          Where dwell the Ghouls;

      By each spot the most unholy,

      In each nook most melancholy, —

      There the traveller meets aghast

      Sheeted Memories of the Past:

      Shrouded forms that start and sigh

      As they pass the wanderer by,

      White-robed forms of friends long given,

      In agony, to the Earth – and Heaven.

      For the heart whose woes are legion

      'T is a peaceful, soothing region;

      For the spirit that walks in shadow

      'T is – oh, 't is an Eldorado!

      But the traveller, travelling through it,

      May not – dare not openly view it;

      Never its mysteries are exposed

      To the weak human eye unclosed;

      So wills its King, who hath forbid

      The uplifting of the fringéd lid;

      And thus the sad Soul that here passes

      Beholds it but through darkened glasses.

      By a route obscure and lonely,

      Haunted by ill angels only,

      Where an Eidolon, named Night,

      On a black throne reigns upright,

      I have wandered home but newly

      From this ultimate dim Thule.

      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 visitor," 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 forevermore.

      And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

      Thrilled me – filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

      So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

      "'T is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,

      Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber 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 mortals 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,