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 5 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, 10 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, 15 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. 20 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 25 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; 30 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 35 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; 40 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 45 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. 50 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 55 From this ultimate dim Thule. THE RAVEN 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: 5 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, 10 For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Nameless here forevermore.