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. The task it brought, I knew not, I merely cowered, as it did growl. Leave my loneliness unbroken! Said I, thing of evil! Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door. Afright, now simple curiousity, no necessity was it, t'was a simple question i began to skew, "what is your name, you obnoxious creature you?". Prophet still, if bird or devil! I, with my guitar in hand, hastely jumped upon the warm sand, tipping, and tripping upon my towel, As the Owl, with it's luminous eyes, began to tread the now seemingly still and chilled soil, The ocean's roar slowly died down t'was not the only.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore. Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849). Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary.
The Sad and Troubled Life of Edgar Allan Poe, EA Poepersonal life, The Life and Writings of Edgar Allan Poe, Homer - The Greek Poet,
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore What. By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God from Confederation to Constitution 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. By that Heaven that bends above usby 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. Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Nights Plutonian shore! This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosoms core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushions velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated oer, But.