Edgar Allen Poe!!

You wouldnt believe it, but..........



Here's a Hint:

Do you need another?

YOUR RIGHT!!!!!!!! Its Edgar Allen Poe's birthday!!!!

And as a huge Poe fan (not the tellytubby one, Im still talking about the poet), I must share with you my two favorite (and probably the most popular) poems.

The Raven

The Tell-Tale Heart

Just in case you havent read these, at the end of this post I will have a copy of The Raven (not the Tell-Tale Heart because its pretty long and having both of them on here would be a bit much). And links to a copy of both of the poems for you too read on the internet. :)

Edgar Allen Poe

The Raven

The Tell-Tale Heart

Nevermore!!

Krystal

The Raven

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.'






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 named Lenore -


Nameless here for evermore.






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


`'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,


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 dream before;


But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness 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 minute stopped or stayed he;


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 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 above 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 further 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


Of "Never-nevermore."'






But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul 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 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 fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;


This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining


On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,


But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,


She shall press, ah, nevermore!






Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer


Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.


`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee


Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!


Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'


Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'






`Prophet!' said I, `thing 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 land 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, `Nevermore.'






`Prophet!' said I, `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 named Lenore -


Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'


Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'






`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -


`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!


Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!


Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!


Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form 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's that is dreaming,


And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;


And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor


Shall be lifted - nevermore!
 
(ps did you like the signature??)