
Der Rabe
- Year:
- 1951
- 14 min
- 18 Views
(0.00 / 0 votes)THE RAVEN:
Once upon a midnight dreary,
while I pondered
weak and....
weary,
While I nodded,
nearly napping,
suddenly there came a tapping
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
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.
And the silken, sad, uncertain
rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled mefilled 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,
That I scarce was sure I heard you
here I opened wide the door;
Darkness there
and nothing more.
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 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;
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
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched
above my chamber door
Perched upon a bust of Pallas 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 sure no craven, Ghastly grim
and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly
shore
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the
Nights Plutonian shore!
Quoth the Raven,
"Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl
to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaninglittle
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.
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid
bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one
word he did outpour.
Nothing farther 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.
Then the bird said,
"Nevermore."
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 dirges of his Hope that melancholy
burden bore
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"Der Rabe" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 8 Feb. 2023. <https://www.scripts.com/script/der_rabe_6733>.
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