The Raven

By Edgar Allan Poe, 1845
The Raven

Summary

"The Raven" is a poem written by Edgar Allan Poe in 1845. The poem tells the story of a man who is grieving the loss of his love, Lenore, and is visited by a mysterious raven late at night. The raven perches on a bust of Pallas, the goddess of wisdom, and repeatedly says the word "Nevermore" when the man asks it questions. As the man's despair grows, he begins to see the raven as a symbol of death and a reminder of his loss. The poem is known for its haunting atmosphere, vivid imagery, and the use of repetition and symbolism.

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Excerpt

THE RAVEN.

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."'T is some visiter," 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 borrowFrom 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 curtainThrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating"'T is some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door Some late visiter 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;—'T is the wind and nothing more!"