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The Raven - Poem by 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 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;
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 mortals 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 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 blest 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 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 fancy 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 lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls 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 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 name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.'
Quoth the Raven, 'Nevermore.'

'Be that word our sign in 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 lamplight 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!


Comments about The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe

  • Rookie - 0 Points Adrian Martin (4/27/2016 5:35:00 PM)

    So dark and sleek like the Raven above my chamber door. Love lost (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie - 79 Points Elvira Groenendijk (3/12/2016 6:50:00 AM)

    This poem has brought me so much inspiration. Love it! (Report) Reply

  • Gold Star - 55,577 Points * Sunprincess * (3/6/2016 9:01:00 PM)

    ........one of the best poems ever written ★ (Report) Reply

Read all 104 comments »

Poems About Rap

  1. 1. The Raven , Edgar Allan Poe
  2. 2. Or, , Thomas Sayers Ellis
  3. 3. Cat-rap , Grace Nichols
  4. 4. Damsel in distress rap , John Agard
  5. 5. The Boneyard Rap , Wes Magee
  6. 6. A Little Nap Rap , Christine De Luca
  7. 7. The Idiot Boy , William Wordsworth
  8. 8. Would You Like Orange Juice With That? , ToddMichael St. Pierre
  9. 9. The Lepracaun Or Fairy Shoemaker , William Allingham
  10. 10. Miss T , Walter de la Mare
  11. 11. Conroy's Gap , Banjo Paterson
  12. 12. * Inosente...Pa Rin Ba? , Inner Whispers
  13. 13. Full Moon , Victoria Sackville-West
  14. 14. $$ Play $$ , Marvin Brato Sr
  15. 15. To A Reason , Arthur Rimbaud
  16. 16. * * * Oldest Companion , Tsira Gogeshvili
  17. 17. Happy Happy Birthday Sasha' , Verlecia fields
  18. 18. A New Year's Time At Willards's , James Whitcomb Riley
  19. 19. The Weird Song [ Limerick Poem ] , Ency Bearis
  20. 20. Camelus Saltat , George Meredith
  21. 21. **i Do Not Care (New) , Sadiqullah Khan
  22. 22. An Invitation , Thomas Blackburn
  23. 23. The Maid Of The Sweet Brown Knowe , Anonymous English
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  25. 25. Halloween , Alesia Leach
  26. 26. The Hammers , Amy Lowell
  27. 27. ***oh! What A Fun Creating A Snowman*** , Sumita Datta
  28. 28. After The Election , Hebert Logerie
  29. 29. Dead Beat Dad , Rose Falcone
  30. 30. sweets Return Wrap , Gomer LePoet
  31. 31. Capturing The Sound Of Rain , Raymond A Foss
  32. 32. It's A Man's Man's Man's Man's World , gershon hepner
  33. 33. Cats Got My Tongue , David Darbyshire
  34. 34. Should You But Fail At—sea , Emily Dickinson
  35. 35. Music Music Music , jessie cardona
  36. 36. Who Am I? , Jesse Overton
  37. 37. With The Lights Out (To Kurt Cobain) , Aram Stefanian
  38. 38. Fortune , Pierre Jean de Beranger
  39. 39. Rap - Why No Tip Song , Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
  40. 40. The Art Of Losing , Ruth Walters
  41. 41. Do Than Say , Pradip Chattopadhyay
  42. 42. Music! , Katie Swan
  43. 43. Tulips , Satheesan Rangorath
  44. 44. #1 , FuegoOo ...
  45. 45. The Day Harry Became A Writer , Charles Chaim Wax
  46. 46. Before The Dawn Turns On , Lawrence S. Pertillar
  47. 47. Star , Leland Wright
  48. 48. Liquid Depression (2) , Frankie Stamey
  49. 49. For I Don’t Give A Damn About A Green Ba.. , Joe Rosochacki
  50. 50. Summer Rap , otteri selvakumar
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