The Raven
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EnglishVoice Age
Middle Aged (35-54)Accents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
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the Ravens By Edgar Allan Toe 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 one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. Distant visitor, I muttered, tapping at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more. The hot 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 with the angels name Lenore. Nameless here forever more and the silken sad on certain rustling of each purple curtain. Thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before, so that now to this still to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating to some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, That is it and nothing more presently. My soldiers 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. So thankfully 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 me no token. And the only word they're spoken was the whispered word the north this I whisper and an echo murmured back the word Lenore. Merely this and nothing more into the chamber. Turning all my soul within need burning soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before surely said I surely that it's something at my window. Lattice, Let me see then what? There it is And this mystery explore Let my heart be still a moment And this mystery explore is 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 of be since made he not a minute stop their state he but with mien of Lord or lady perched about right, my chamber door perched upon a bust of palace to just above my chamber door perched and sat, and nothing will then this ebony are beguiling. My sad fancy. You're just smiling by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance of war. Though thy crest be shorn unshaven, though I said art sure know Craven, ghastly, grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore. Tell me what they lordly name is on nights. Plutonium shore. Quoth the raven. Never more much, I marveled. It's on daily foul to hear discourse so plainly those answered little meeting. Little revel relevancy four. Where we cannot help agreeing that no living human being ever yet most blessed with Sea Bird about this chamber door Myrtle used upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door with such name as never more. But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only that one word, as if a soul in that one word he did up nothing farther than uttered, not a feather. Then he flooded till I scarcely more than muttered. Other friends have flown here before all tomorrow he will leave me as my hopes have flown before then, the bird said nevermore, startled at the stone, was broken by requires so aptly spoken. Doubtless said I. What it utters is it's only stock in store coffer of some unhappy manse master whom Unmerciful disaster followed past and followed faster. Wilson's one burden bore Till the dirges of us hope that melancholy burden bore off. Never, never more but the Ravens still beguiling All my fancy into smiling straight, I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of the bird and bust and door. Then, upon the velvet sinking, I took myself to linking fancy ends of fancy thinking. What this ominous bird of yore with 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 fouls fiery eyes now burned into my bosom. Score this and more. I sat to binding with my head of these reclining on the cushions, velvet lining that the lamplight gloated over but whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating over she shall press, never born. Then we thought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen sensor swung by Seraphim, whose football's tinkled on the tufted floor Wretch cried that God has let the by. These angels, he hath sent thee respite, respite significant from the memories of the nor cough cough this kind of nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore. Quoth the raven Nevermore prophet said I think 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 nine 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. Never more, Prophet said. I think of evil prophet still if bird or devil by that happen that bends above us by that God we both adore. Tell this soul with sorrow laden. If within the distant Aidan 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 are signed A parting bird or fiend. I shrieked up, starting Get me back into the tempest and the night's potential being black plume as a token of that Why Die Soul had spoken to leave my loneliness I've broken Quit the bust above my door Take thy beak from out my heart And think I formed 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 that is dreaming And the life landslide over him Streaming throws his shadow on the floor and my soul From out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted Never