Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore. “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,īy the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door. Not the least obeisance made he not a minute stopped or stayed he īut, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door. In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore. Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore. “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before. This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”-īack into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, That I scarce was sure I heard you”-here I opened wide the door -ĭeep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,ĭoubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before īut the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,Īnd the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?” “Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore īut the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,Īnd so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

Presently my soul grew stronger hesitating then no longer, Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating

Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door-Īh, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December Īnd each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.Įagerly I wished the morrow -vainly I had sought to borrowįrom my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-įor the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-Īnd the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,Īs of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Poe has produced a wonderful piece of work that resonates with the feelings and experiences of every reader that comes across this poem. These battles are not physical, but leave scarring and bruising just as if they were. ‘ The Raven’ explores the world of emotional wars that individuals face in all walks of life specifically, the fight one can never ignore, the fight of control over the emotions of grief and loss. ‘ The Raven‘ personifies the feeling of intense grief and loss, while other symbols throughout the poem reinforce a melodramatic mood that emphasizes the main character’s grief and loss. This popular narrative poem is written in the first person.

Bust a move 4 lore