Monday, February 16, 2004

   The Raven
i just love this poem i have the first stanza (parigraph thingy) memerized! so thats why im typing it ya know jus' in case ya were wund'rin' (its kinda long though) so anyway The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while i pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-
While i nooded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently 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 seperate 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 rusrling 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 entarnce 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, turly your forgiveness I emplore;
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 iI opened wid the door"-
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into the 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 stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"
This I whisphered, and an echo murmured back the word "Lenore!"
Merly 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 lattice;
Let me see, then what therat 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,
But the grave and stern decorum of the countenance ot 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!"
Qouth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help ageering that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed 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 lonelu on that 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-
'Til I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before-
On teh 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 ir utters is ite only stock and store
Cought from some unhappy master whom unmericiful Disater
Followed fast and followed faster 'til his song one burden bore-
'Til the dirges of his Hope the melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never-nevermore.'"
But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy inro smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myslef to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous birs of yore-
What this grin, ungainlym gastly, guant, and ominous bird of yore
Ment 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;
On the more I sat divining, with my head at wase recining
On the cushon's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloated o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, metought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-fallw 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 tempter tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undauted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by Horror haunted-tell me truly, I implore-
Is there-is there blam 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, withen the disrant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angles name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird of fiend!" I sherieked, upstating-
"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, stil 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 shodow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted-nevermore!


Glosserie:
lore-legend
surceade-an end
entreating-requesting
token-clue
lattice-window covering made from strips of crossed wood
yore-long ago
obeisance-sign of obedience
mien-appearance
Pallas-Athena, godess of wisdom
ebony-black
beguiling-charming
decorum-dignity
countenance-facial expression
craven-coward
Plutonian-deathly
ungainly-clumsy
discourse-speech
relevancy-importance
dirges-burial songs
ominous-spooky
divining-coming to a conclusion
dender-thicker
cender-incense burner
seraphim-angel
nepenthe-drink that cauded forgetfulness
quaff-to drink
tempter-devil
tempest-storm
desolate-alone
undaunted-unafraid
balm-soothing oil
Gilead-ancien place in the Middle East known for its balm
Aidenn-Adin, a rich province of Turkey
plume-feather
pallid-pale
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