Hala
Posts : 165 Age : 27 Birthday : 1996-08-21 Activity Points : 4748 Reputation : 2 Location : BITCH PLEASE. HYRULE. Favorite Activities : Being the monster I am living under your bed. And hugging everyone. Favorite Game : Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask.
| Subject: Edgar Allan Poe: The Raven Tue Feb 07, 2012 8:15 pm | |
| The Raven - Edgar Allan Poe
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 named 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; 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 I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more.
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, Soon again I 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 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, 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!
-- I felt I should post the poem since its by far one of my favourites. Edgar Allan is certainly one of my favourite writers. This poem kind of has some emotional meaning to me since I once had a friend named Alena who I called my raven for the longest time, and I was her crow since there were quite a few suicides and other deaths around us and black brids were bad omens. Alena was no different, she committed suicide last year on Sept. 5th. This was a huge impact on my emotions and I can say that I havent been the same. I probably took this death the hardest. Anyways, basically, the whole thing's about a man who's lost his love and, it's hinted, other people important to him. He's trying to drown his sorrow in boring old books when the raven arrives and sits on the bust of Pallas (goddess of wisdom). Therefore he assumes the bird might be able to answer some of his cosmological questions. But it keeps answering 'nevermore' - i.e. you'll never stop being depressed, never see Lenore again, never get on with your life...you get the picture. So, It kind of reminds me of my situation, I lost one of the closest people to me. | |
|
ZXoftheDarkness Head Admin / Founder
Posts : 460 Age : 30 Birthday : 1993-04-09 Activity Points : 5188 Reputation : 3 Location : Writing Favorite Activities : Writing, Listening to Music, Graphics Design, Modding, Gaming, Watching Anime, Hanging with Friends, Singing, Photography, Music Composition and Sleeping Favorite Game : Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
| Subject: Re: Edgar Allan Poe: The Raven Fri Feb 10, 2012 1:41 pm | |
| Edgar Allan Poe has been one of my favorite writers for such a long time | |
|
thomas
Posts : 178 Age : 27 Birthday : 1997-03-13 Activity Points : 4647 Reputation : 2 Favorite Game : SSBB
| Subject: Re: Edgar Allan Poe: The Raven Fri Feb 10, 2012 5:04 pm | |
| I love the poem even though it can be hard to keep track with sometimes. Reading about your own emotional attachment to the poem definitely made it more... real. | |
|
ZXoftheDarkness Head Admin / Founder
Posts : 460 Age : 30 Birthday : 1993-04-09 Activity Points : 5188 Reputation : 3 Location : Writing Favorite Activities : Writing, Listening to Music, Graphics Design, Modding, Gaming, Watching Anime, Hanging with Friends, Singing, Photography, Music Composition and Sleeping Favorite Game : Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
| Subject: Re: Edgar Allan Poe: The Raven Fri Feb 10, 2012 8:55 pm | |
| - thomas wrote:
- I love the poem even though it can be hard to keep track with sometimes. Reading about your own emotional attachment to the poem definitely made it more... real.
Agreed | |
|