Open here I flung the casement, when, to my extreme amazement,
In there stepped a rusty Raven of the “glorious days of yore.”
Not the least obeisance dropped he, not an instant stayed or stopped he,
But, like ghoul who hopped and flopped, he perched above my chamber door—
On a plaster bust of Dizzy standing o’er my chamber-door—
Perched and sat, and—nothing more!
Then this seedy bird beguiling my chilled features into smiling,
By the grave lugubrious grimness of the solemn phiz he wore,
“Thou art welcome to this haven,” said I, “foul, bedraggled, shaven,
Hopeless-looking ancient Raven, croaking as of days of yore.