The Raven

Front Cover
S. Low, Marston, Searle, and Rivington, 1883 - American literature - 31 pages
74 Reviews
Reviews aren't verified, but Google checks for and removes fake content when it's identified

From inside the book

What people are saying - Write a review

User ratings

5 stars
53
4 stars
17
3 stars
3
2 stars
1
1 star
0

Reviews aren't verified, but Google checks for and removes fake content when it's identified

LibraryThing Review

User Review  - AngelaJMaher - LibraryThing

The Raven is a legendary poem, but within the other poems included are more words that will ring with great familiarity. Beautifully flowing poetry from an iconic author. Read full review

LibraryThing Review

User Review  - jenn88 - LibraryThing

The way the poem flows is beautiful. It makes you want to keep reading. And the illustrations are gorgeous. A dark poem about a man who has lost his love, Lenore. He hears someone knocking at his ... Read full review

Other editions - View all

Popular passages

Page 1 - 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.
Page 11 - 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 blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door — Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as
Page 15 - 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!
Page 11 - 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 blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as 'Nevermore.
Page 3 - 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...
Page 2 - 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.
Page 20 - 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!
Page 2 - 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, 'T is some visitor entreating Entrance at my chamber door — Some late visitor entreating Entrance at my chamber door; This it is and nothing more.
Page 7 - 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...
Page 12 - 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...

Bibliographic information