Excerpts from “The Raven” By Edgar Allan Poe (January 19, 1809 – October 7, 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; ... Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness 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, ... Tis the wind and nothing more! ... 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 demons that is dreaming, And the lamp-light oer 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!
Posted on: Sat, 11 Oct 2014 14:37:57 +0000
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