111.-The Raven.

The central idea in this, the most celebrated poem of Edgar Allan Poe, is thus stated in his essay on the "Philosophy of Composition:" "I asked myself what, according to the universal understanding of mankind, is the most melancholy of poetic topics. The answer was obvious: it is Death. I then inquired when this most melancholy of topics is most poetical. Here, too, the reply was obvious: it is when it most closely allies itself to beauty. Hence the death of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world; and the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover. This is the essential motive of my poem."

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 ghost1 upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow: vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease 2 of sorrow, sorrow for the lost

Lenore;

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name

Lenore,

Nameless here forevermore.

1 ghost; i.e., shadow.

2

surcease, cessation, relief.

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 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, something 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 Pallas1 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

Ghastly, grim, and ancient Raven, wandering from the Nightly

shore,

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!" 8

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore!"

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;

For we can not help agreeing 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!

1 Pallas; i.e., Minerva, the god-| dess of wisdom, whose bust would appropriately find place in the library of a student.

8 Plutonian shore. Plutonian ; i.e., relating to Pluto, in the Grecian mythology the presiding deity of Hades: hence by "Plutonian

2 craven (literally, one who has shore" the poet here means the craved mercy), coward.

abode of the dead.

But the Raven, sitting lonely 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, Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown

before:

On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before!"

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 1

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 lamplight gloated o'er;
But whose velvet violet lining, with the lamplight gloating o'er,
She shall press - ah! nevermore.

1 burden, strain, meaning, refrain.

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen

censer

Swung by seraphim,1 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,2 from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, O 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?8 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,a 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!"

1 seraphim, the Hebrew plural of seraph = seraphs, angels of the highest order.

2 nepenthe; i.e., forgetfulness. Nepenthe was a drug used by the ancients to induce sleep, and supposed to be opium.

8 balm in Gilead; an allusion to the passage in Scripture, "Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?”

4 Aidenn, a word derived from the Arabic form of Eden, and here meaning "Heaven."