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Works CitedPoe, Edgar Allan, and Harold Bloom "EDGAR ALLAN POE ON THE COMPOSITION OF "THE RAVEN." Bloom's Major Poets: Edgar Allan Poe (1999): 50-51. Literary Reference Center. EBSCO. Web. 19 Nov. 2009. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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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 if someone 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 ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I ished the morrow- Vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow- Sorrow for my lost Leonore- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Leonore Nameless here for evermore . And the silken sad uncertain rustling on each purple curtain Thirlled 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, entering entrance at my chamber door - Some late visitor entering entrance at my chamber door; - This is it and nothing more. Presently my soul grew stronger; Hesitating then no longer, '' Sir,'' said I '' or Madam, truly your foegiveness I implore; But the facct is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so jently 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 pearing, Long I stood wondering, fearing, Doubting, Dreaming dreams that 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 wispered word '' Leonore'' This i Whispered, and an echo murmured back the word ''Leonore'' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, All the soul within me burning, soon again iI 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 mistery explore - Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; - '' Tis the wind an nothing more!'' Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, in here stepped a stately raven from 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, preched avove my chamber door - Preached upon a bust of Pallas just avove my chamber door - Preached, 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 blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door - Bird or beast above 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 sad soul 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 lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. `Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has 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 named Lenore - Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?' Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.' `Be that word our sign of 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 lamp-light 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!
Edgar Allan Poe
The Raven
Lit Crit
The article presents the explanation of poet Edgar Allan Poe regarding the use of the raven and what it would mean in the poem ''The Raven.'' Poe had gone so far as the conception of a Raven--the bird of ill omen--monotonously repeating the one word, Nevermore; at the conclusion of each stanza, in a poem of melancholy tone, and in length about one hundred lines. He combined the two ideas, of a lover lamenting his deceased mistress and a Raven continuously repeating the word Nevermore--He had to combine these, bearing in mind my design of varying, at every turn, the application of the word repeated; but the only intelligible mode of such combination is that of imagining the Raven employing the word in answer to the queries of the lover. Bloom selected reprint of this article from the book ''Edgar Allan Poe: Poetry, Tales, & Selected Essays.''
Poe, Edgar Allan "The Raven." 18-23. Weekly Reader Corporation, 2007. Literary Reference Center. EBSCO. Web. 19 Nov. 2009.
LORE—wisdom or knowledge CHAMBER—a bedroom WROUGHT—shaped or formed SURCEASE—a temporary relief ENTREATING—requesting urgently; pleading MORTAL—human being LATTICE—a framework of crossed wood or metat strips OBEISANCE-bow MIEN—appearance BUST—life-size statue of the head and shoulders PALLAS—Greek goddess of wisdom BEGUILING—tricking; misleading DECOR U M—respecta bi I ity COUNTENANCE—face; expression CRAVEN—subdued DISCOURSE—conversation PLACID—calm; undisturbed DIRGES—funeral songs MELANCHOLY—sad; gloomy OMINOUS—foreshadowing evil or disaster CENSER-a covered incense burner swung in chains in a religious ritual SERAPHIM—angels NEPENTHE—a potion used to cause forgetfulnes of pain or sorrow TEMPTER—the devil PLUME—feather PALLID—pale; colorless
The poem is about an old rich man who is nuts and is being haunted by a raven. The raven keeps saying the word nevermore and its driving the man nuts.
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