Luyện nghe bài hát The Raven

Once a midnight dreary, as I pondered, weak and weary
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten
While I nodded, napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As if one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door
"Tis some visitor," I muttered, at my chamber door only this
Only this and nothing

Muttering I got up weakly, I've had trouble sleeping
Stumbling upright my mind racing, furtive thoughts once more
I there hoping for some sunrise, would be a surprise
Loneliness no longer a prize, at my chamber door
Seeking out the clever bore, lost in dreams more
Only and nothing more

Hovering my pulse was racing, stale my lips tasting
Scotch sitting upon my basin, remnants of the before
Came again tapping on the door, in my mind jabbing
Is it in or outside rapping, calling out to me once
The fit and fury of Lenore, nameless here forever
And the silken sad uncertain, of the purple curtain
me, filled me

With fantastic never felt before, so that now, oh wind
breathing, hoping yet to calm my breathing
'Tis some visitor entreating, entrance at my chamber
lost visitor entreating, entrance at my chamber door
This is it, and nothing more, into the darkness peering
Long I stood there, wondering fearing, doubting dreaming
No dared to dream before
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no
And the only word there spoken, was the whispered name,

This I thought in out loud whispered from my
The foul name festered, echoing itself merely this, and nothing
Back into my chamber turning, every nerve me burning
When once again I heard a tapping, somewhat louder than
"Surely," said I, surely that is something at my staircase
Open the door to see what threat is, open that window, the shutters
Let us this mystery explore, Oh! heart be still this once
And let this mystery explore it is the wind and nothing

Just one Epithet I muttered as inside, I and shuddered
When with manly flirt and flutter, in there flew a stately
Sleek and as any foe, not the least obeisance made he
Not a minutes gesture me, of recognition or politeness
But perched above my door, this fowl and salivating visage
Insinuating with its knowledge, perched above my chamber
Silent sat and nothing more, a-skance, a-skew

The sad fancy smiles at you I swear, at this savage viscous
Countenance it wears, though you show here scorn and and
I admit myself forlorn and craven, ghastly grim and ancient
Wandering the opiate shores, tell me, what
Thy Lordly name is? That you are not nightmare
dire powdered drink or inhalation
Framed flames of downtown lore stroke the raven never more

And the raven sitting lonely, sickly at my male sex only
That one word as if his soul in one word, he did outpour, pathetic
Nothing farther than he uttered, not a feather then he
Till finally was I that as I stared, dully at the floor
friends have flown and left me
Flown as and every hope has flown before
And as you no will before tomorrow
But the bird never more

Then I the air grow denser, perfumed from some unseen incense
As though accepting angelic intrusion, when in fact I collusion
the guise, of false memories respite
Respite the haze of cocaine's glory
I smoke and I smoke the vial's glory
To forget at once, the Lenore
the raven never more
Prophet said I, thing of evil, still, if bird or devil
By that Heaven bend above us, by that God we both ignore
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, willful and intent

How had lapsed a heart lady, to the greediest of needs
Sweaty arrogant less liar, who ascribed to nothing higher
Than a jab prick to a needle, straight to betrayal and disgrace
The conscience showing not a trace, stroke the raven never
Be that word our sign of
Bird or fiend," I yelled upstarting, get back into the tempest
Into the filled bottle's shore, leave no black plume as a token
Of the slime thy hath spoken, leave my loneliness unbroken

Quit as those quit before, take the talon from my heart
And see that I can care no more, mattered came before
I vanished with the dead Lenore, stroke the never more
But the raven, flitting
Still is sitting silent sitting, above a silent painting
Of the silenced whole and his eyes have all the seeming
Of a demon's that is dreaming, and the lamplight him
Streaming throws his to the floor I love she
Who me more, I love she who hates me more
And my shall not be lifted from that shadow nevermore