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POETRY
Poem about Magick
Magick is finding your connection to the Earth and all that is natural, alive and moving in the universe! It binds all that exists together.
Magick is living in balance with the flow of life, and knowing that you are a vital force within that flow. Magick is everywhere! In the trees, rain, stars, and in the sea. It is the spark that quickens a seed to rise up from the soil.
Magick is laughter, joy, wonder and truth the of the world around us!
It is the subtle enchantment that reminds us not to waste a single moment of this gift that we call life! Magick is not greed, or power, or pretense...It is real. It exists. And it works.
Magick is the mystery that lies in the secret soul of the world. It is the essence of creation. What we imagine, we have the power to create!
MAGICK IS WITHIN YOU...
With it you can create your dreams, heal your world, love your life and find the peace that lives in every human heart.
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The Lady of Shalott
Alfred Lord Tennyson
Pre-Raphaelite art by John William Waterhouse and classic poetry by John Lord Tennyson, classic famous english poetry and art of the 19 th century
On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver,
Little breezes dusk and shiver
Thro' the wave that runs for ever
By the island in the river
Flowing down to Camelot.
Four gray walls, and four gray towers,
Overlook a space of flowers,
And the silent isle imbowers
The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow-veil'd,
Slide the heavy barges trail'd
By slow horses; and unhail'd
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
Skimming down to Camelot:
But who hath seen her wave her hand?
Or at the casement seen her stand?
Or is she known in all the land,
The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early
In among the bearded barley,
Hear a song that echoes cheerly
From the river winding clearly,
Down to tower'd Camelot:
And by the moon the reaper weary,
Piling sheaves in uplands airy,
Listening, whispers "'Tis the fairy
Lady of Shalott."
There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.
And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.
There she sees the highway near
Winding down to Camelot:
There the river eddy whirls,
And there the surly village-churls,
And the red cloaks of market girls,
Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,
An abbot on an ambling pad,
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,
Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad,
Goes by to tower'd Camelot;
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue
The knights come riding two and two:
She hath no loyal knight and true,
The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights
To weave the mirror's magic sights,
For often thro' the silent nights
A funeral, with plumes and lights
And music, went to Camelot:
Or when the moon was overhead,
Came two young lovers lately wed;
"I am half sick of shadows," said
The Lady of Shalott.
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,
He rode between the barley-sheaves,
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves,
And flamed upon the brazen greaves
Of bold Sir Lancelot.
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
To a lady in his shield,
That sparkled on the yellow field,
Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free,
Like to some branch of stars we see
Hung in the golden Galaxy.
The bridle bells rang merrily
As he rode down to Camelot:
And from his blazon'd baldric slung
A mighty silver bugle hung,
And as he rode his armour rung,
Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather,
The helmet and the helmet-feather
Burn'd like one burning flame together,
As he rode down to Camelot.
As often thro' the purple night,
Below the starry clusters bright,
Some bearded meteor, trailing light,
Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd;
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode;
From underneath his helmet flow'd
His coal-black curls as on he rode,
As he rode down to Camelot.
From the bank and from the river
He flash'd into the crystal mirror,
"Tirra lirra," by the river
Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces thro' the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.
In the stormy east-wind straining,
The pale yellow woods were waning,
The broad stream in his banks complaining,
Heavily the low sky raining
Over tower'd Camelot;
Down she came and found a boat
Beneath a willow left afloat,
And round about the prow she wrote
The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse
Like some bold seer in a trance,
Seeing all his own mischance -
With a glassy countenance
Did she look to Camelot.
And at the closing of the day
She loosed the chain, and down she lay;
The broad stream bore her far away,
The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white
That loosely flew to left and right -
The leaves upon her falling light -
Thro' the noises of the night
She floated down to Camelot:
And as the boat-head wound along
The willowy hills and fields among,
They heard her singing her last song,
The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darken'd wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony,
By garden-wall and gallery,
A gleaming shape she floated by,
Dead-pale between the houses high,
Silent into Camelot.
Out upon the wharfs they came,
Knight and burgher, lord and dame,
And round the prow they read her name,
The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? And what is here?
And in the lighted palace near
Died the sound of royal cheer;
And they cross'd themselves for fear,
All the knights at Camelot:
But Lancelot mused a little space;
He said, "She has a lovely face;
God in his mercy lend her grace,
The Lady of Shalott."
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Close My Eyes
From The Album Butterfly
I was a wayward child
With the weight of the world
That I held deep inside
Life was a winding road
And I learned many things
Little ones shouldn't know
But I closed my eyes
Steadied my feet on the ground
Raised my head to the sky
And though time's rolled by
Still I feel like that child
As I look at the moon
Maybe I grew up
A little too soon
Funny how one can learn
To grow numb to the madness
And block it away
I left the worst unsaid
Let it all dissipate
And I try to forget
As I closed my eyes
Steadied my feet on the ground
Raised my head to the sky
And the time rolled by
Still I feel like a child
As I look at the moon
Maybe I grew up
A little too soon
Nearing the edge
Oblivious
I almost fell right over
A part of me
Will never be quite able
To feel stable
That woman-child falling inside
Was on the verge of fading
Thankfully, I woke up in time
Guardian angel
I sail away on an ocean
With you by my side
Orange clouds roll by
They burn into your image
And you're still alive
As I closed my eyes
Steady my feet on the ground
Raise my head to the sky
And though time rolls by
Still I feel like a child
As I look at the moon
Maybe I grew up
A little too soon
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Come Walk with me The Goddess says
along the Garden path
Today I wear my colors spring
Life again comes round
Come Walk with me The Goddess says
Today is but fleet, For tomorrow I wear
My colors summer Green
and Fruit beginning on the limb
Come Walk with me The Goddess says
along the Garen Path
Autumn brings the Fruit to Bear
and it shall be so sweet
Come Walk with me The Goddess Says
along the Garden Path
Winter is but tomorrow
When Branches Bare Be Seen
Come Walk with me The Goddess Says
along the Garden Path
Beauty here abounds
A Feast for Sight and Smell
My Promise is Fulfilled
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Talmira's Broom Closet
Wiccan Shelf
Poetry by Windspirit
Sweet Circle of Love
The quiet hours come,
eyelids heavy,
as is my heart.
Not empty,
yet not full.
not broken,
yet still mending.
Not here,
but somewhere...
searching...
hoping...
trusting...
that it will come home.
It has been said so often,
"home is where the heart is,"
yet my heart feels lost...
wandering...
waiting...
keeping me going...
sustaining me for what end?
My heart yearns to fly,
to search the wooded glen,
to find my love,
to sense its presence,
to feel its embrace,
to know its warmth...
yet, alas, I cannot soar
for my wings are healing.
Someday...
somewhere...
somehow...
I will fly again...
and find my way home,
to rest quietly
with the Goddess
in loving embrace
and earthly peace.
There I will gather flowers
and sing of love
never waining...
never failing...
a love I once knew.
a love that lived...
and breathed...
and laughed...
and cried...
and was held so close
when it wanted to be.
As life does sometimes,
two hearts meet,
and fall in love,
and feel the Goddess
burning within.
But then life's forces
silently tell them
that their time is done
and it is time to journey on...
to leave the circle
as quickly and as suddenly
as they came to enter it.
What these hearts
will never know,
as the distance grows,
and the flame
of their candle
grows weaker,
is "what could have been."
But what could have been
is a pit of quicksand
a slow death
for the drowning heart,
a living hell,
for the lonely heart.
Two parting hearts,
it seems,
can only trust
in the Goddess
to love them
and guide them
and paint their love
in a new hue of friendship.
For two hearts
that are bonded
in such love
and oneness of spirit
can never be taken
from Her sweet circle of love.
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In the mists surounding the mountain of light,
From times long ago,on the ever shifting sands,
And far away by the phantom circles of the moaning sea,
There the pursuer could pursue no more,
And he who had fled no more could fly,
And out on the waste land by the waste sea,
In the light of the first dawn and the first night,
The mountains did ring with the slaughter of battle,
The crash of the battle-axe,spear and the sword,
The screams ofthe horses,and shouts of the men,
Echoing round the mountain of light,
All the long day they fought and they fought,
The pace never slackened,
Till they where laid to the earth,
All the long day and into the night the battle went on,
A hundred thousand lay dead on the earth,
Then a wind rose clear from the north,
Blew through the mists and over the sea,
The warrior bold glanced over the field,
No man was moving,no cry was heard,
Only the moan of the clear north wind,
As it blew through trembling hollow helmets of the dead,
Swaying there helpless hands through the mists,
Then the warrior cryed ,
"come death, come life this battle is done let the new one begin".
Hush, my little child,
For you need your sleep this night.
Tomorrow, I shall join the others
On their way to a majestic fight.
I need you to be strong for your mother
In case I might not return.
Hush, my precious wife,
For your tears are melting my heart.
We have said our goobyes a thousand times
And I still cannot stand for us to be apart.
The wind is blowing and I can hear the chimes
Calling for me to take my leave.
Speak, my Lord and Lady,
Tell me that all be well on this day.
I have a child and a wife that I both love
And who yearns for me to always stay.
For both of you sitting high above,
I give you my life.
by
Jamdin
Through the mists they come we swords held high,
voices raised in battle cry,
the highlanders bold charge doon the brae,
to strike feer and hell into there awating pray,
targe held tight and dirk in hand,on they come, come what may,
gaining speed all the time,faster yet they begin to charge,
through the shot from the enamys guns,
leeping ower bog and grass,faster yet they seem to fly,
the clans charge on till sword on musket and dirk through flesh
they come in fast and come in hard
the enamy dosna stand a chance,they strike doon yin,and then another
on they go through the lot,they round again and in as quick,
the enamay sees the chance to flee,
then with there deed and the spoils o war,
the highlanders bold
dissapeier fah sight back into the mists apon the hill,
back through the mists oh time...
From the fires heart,
Where its pure and bright,
From the edge of the phospheresent light,
With talons sharper than a rasors edge,
With wings opening out into the night,
With a wisdom from the ages past,
The Phoniex rises from the fires depths,
And sours on wings of brillant flame,
Flickering rythmically to the flow,
Of the wisdom within its eyes,
Dancing through the skys,
Twisting, turning, rythmically betwine the stars,
Each feather of its body glowing,
Light's far furnace shines,
Each beet of its mighty wings
Takeing it higher up into the night,
Flying faster than the lightnings strike,
The Phoniex born of fire,
Sparks of the supersolar blaze.
Within its eyes,
The flowing fortunes of a thousand years,
That No sword of angels could reveal,
Within its heart,
The flowing love,of love eternal,
That no demon born of hell can smite,
Flying on The soaring orbit of the muse
Thro' heaven's etherial arch ..
The phoenix symbolizes immortality, resurrection and life after death. Depictions of a phoenix have appeared in Egyptian, Greek, Hindu and Chinese art and writings for a very long time. It also later appeared in medieval Christian writings as a symbol of death and resurrection. It's flight has been said to represent the capacity to leave the world and its problems behind, flying towards the sun in clear pure skies.
he Sky is dark, the stars are bright, The moon is shinning too, Inside a cave the witches meet To mix their favourite brew. They take a stick, and bending low They stir the mixture round, Then rub their fingers, And stamp upon the ground. They drink there whisky and there becks and then into the sky, On broomsticks, swift and light, They giggle as they fly, And soon are out of sight.
I have done the dream walk,
In the night of darkness my soul has wandered.
I have faced the Crone, The Black Brighid, The Morrigu,
And drank from her cauldron,
And from it's blackly liquid,
I have received her wisdom.
Her ravens have flown with me,
Leading me into other realms...
One above, blocking out the sky,
One below, hiding the Earth,
And one on either side,
Holding my spiraling soul.
I have been nurished at the bossom
of the Dark Crone,
And she has filled me,
And lifted me up with new insight.
I face all that come as her daughters.
And her warrior sons guard my back.
I honor her in her darkness,
For what she has given me.
May her blackest kiss be upon my lips,
And her wisdoms brighten my soul.
Season Of The Witch
The darkness howls as they arise
Feel the angry fevers rise
Flames of lightning fill your sky
From your dreams
it would seem that your nightmares
Come to life
It's the season of the witch
In this blackness your fears
will arouse only leers from below
We go...
Season of the Witch
Season of the Witch
Salem's lot has struck the hour
Season of the Witch
Fear the stake flesh afire
Season of the Witch
Every madness has its lair
Judging by these distractions
we know not a soul will be spared
Come forth demons
Now there's no turning back
Alarmed by these visions
be prepared as they plan their attack
Season of the Witch
Season of the Witch
Salem's lot has struck the hour
Season of the Witch
Fear the stake flesh afire
Season of the Witch
Flames of lightning fill your sky
From your dreams it would seem
that your nightmares Come to life
It's the season of the witch
In this blackness your fears
will arouse only leers from below
We go..
silver.. sliver.. softly light the darkness
rough hewn stone circle,
ancient solemn chanting
grass stained bare toes breathless young maidens,
flush faced from roaring open fires
stand silhoutted against the night sky
under the mystical ghost moon,
weaving there spells,
Candles glimmering,
Beneath the endless blackness.
Dancing there spiral dance,
To mother earth and father sky....
There she stands in the moonlight,on the mountian top,the light reflected in her eyes,which glow with a hunger and a passion,her body so sleek and lean,shes like an angel of the night,her head moving from side to side,listening for the call,the call of her mate,she stops as she hears his call carried on the wind,then raising her sleek proud head to the moon above,she answers him loud and cleer,a quick glance around and shes gone,off into the night.But if you listen,you can still hear her howl to the moon,carried on the wind.....
Allow me to dream, to dream of what could,
to dream of what will never be
can't you see
without dreams
we are nothing
wwe are no one
dreams!!
They keep us alive
Dreams
They give us hope
Dreams!!
They allow us to explore
our minds, our heart
and deep within our souls
Dreams all that we desire,
all that we long for
can be found in our endlessly
we search within our dreams..
allow me to dream
I am nothing
I am no one
TOUCHING SHOULDERS
There's a comforting thought at the close of the day
When I'm weary and lonely and sad
That sort of grips hold of this poor old heart
And bids it be merry and glad.
It gets in my being, and drives out the blues
And finally thrills through and through,
It's just a sweet memory, that chants this refrain,
"I'm glad I touched shoulders with you."
Did you know you were brave ?
Did you know you were strong ?
Did you know there was one leaning hard ?
Did you know that I waited, and listened and prayed ?
And was cheered by your simplest word.
Did you know that I longed for the smile on your face ?
For the sound of your voice ringing true,
Did you know I grew stronger and better because
"I had merely touched shoulders with you ".
I'm glad that I live, that I battle and strive,
For a place that I know I must fill,
I'm thankfull for sorrows, I'll meet with a grin
What fortune may bring, good or ill,
I may not have wealth, I may not be great
But I know I will always be true,
For I have in my life, that courage you gave,
When once, I touched shoulders with you !"
~Author Unknown~
HOW DO I LOVE THEE ?
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints,--I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life!--and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
~Elizabeth Barrett Browning~
WHAT IS LOVE?
Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous.
Love does not brag and is not arrogant.
Love does not act unbecomingly, it does not seek it's own,
is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered.
Love does not rejoice in unrighteousnes,
but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things,
Hopes all things, endures all things.
LOVE NEVER FAILS!
~1 Corinthians, Chapter 13~
FRIENDSHIP
Friendship is a strange thing....
we find ourselves telling each other the deepest details of our lives...
things we don't even share with our families who raised us...
But what is a friend? A confidant? A lover? A fellow email junkie?
A shoulder to cry on? an ear to listen? a heart to feel?...
A friend is all these things...and more.
No matter where we met,....I call you friend.
A word so small...yet so large in feeling...a word filled with emotion.
It is true great things come in small packages.
Once the package of friendship has been opened,
it can never be closed...
it is a constant book always written...waiting to be read...and enjoyed.
We may have our disagreements...we may argue...
we may concern one another...
friendship is a unique bond that lasts through it all....
A part of me is put into my friends...
some it is my humor...some it is my listening ear...
some it is real life experiences...some it is my romanticism...
but with all, it is friendship.
Friendships forged are a construction stronger than steel
built as a foundation....necessary for life...and necessary for love.
~Author Unknown~
Kindred Spirit
When kindred spirits meet it is as wind upon the sail.
A driving force, a rising heat, Hold fast! Let it not fail!
So rare the kindred spirit is, so few indeed there are.
When this you find, yes, nurture this, let it not drift afar.
For kindred spirits once apart may never find once more.
A heart so well matched with a heart as they have found before.
~Author Unknown~
~HUGS~
There's something in a simple hug that always warms the heart.
It welcomes us back home and makes it easier to part.
A hug's a way to share the joy and sad times we go through,
Or just a way for friends to say they like you 'cause you're you.
Hugs are meant for anyone for whom we really care,
From your grandma to your neighbour, or a cuddly teddy bear
A hug is an amazing thing - It's just the perfect way
To show the love we're feeling but can't find the words to say.
It's funny how a little hug makes everyone feel good.
In every place and language, it's always understood.
And hugs don't need new equipment, special batteries or parts -
Just open up your arms and open up your hearts.
~Author Unknown~
THINKING OF YOU
This morning as I rose from bed and saw the sun above,
I softly said "Good Morning God, bless everyone I love"
And right away I thought of you and said a loving prayer
That He would bless you specially and keep you free from care.
I thought of all the happiness your day could hold in store;
And wished it all for you, because no one deserves it more.
I felt so warm and good inside, my heart was all aglow
I know God heard my prayer for you,
He hears them all you know.
~Author Unknown~
May you always have... A sunbeam to warm you,
Good luck to charm you,
And a sheltering angel So nothing can harm you
Laughter to cheer you,
Faithful friends near you,
And whenever you pray Heaven to hear you.
By Edgar Allan Poe
1809-1849
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 for evermore.
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, ''Tis 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 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 ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being , Ever yet was blest with seeing, bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven sitting lonely, on the placid bust spoke only that one word as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered- Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have flown before- On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken, by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore- Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never- nevermore'."
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing, to the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining, on the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er; But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer; swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!- whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted- on this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or devil! by that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore- tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, it shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
"Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting- "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting - on the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, and the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!
