Un fragmento de uno de sus poemas ...
The Raven
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
over many a quaint and curious colume of forgotten lore, -
while I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
as of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"It is some visitor", - I muttered, taping 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 vame 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
"It is some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door:
This is and nothing more".