Back in October I had planned to post a poem from Edgar Allan Poe after the people of Baltimore had a funeral for him in memorial of his death on October 7, 1849.
But I never got around to it.
Then I planned to once again post a poem from Mr. Macabre to celebrate Halloween that same month.
But I never got around to it.
And then I planned to post a picture of some birds in my backyard after thinking, "ravens or not, this pic would be a great intro to a Poetry Friday post of 'The Raven'."
But I never got around to it.
Until now.
Edgar Allan Poe's birthday was last week--January 19 (1809)--the perfect opportunity to lay this Poe post to rest.
I'm going to pick up toward the end of the poem where Poe has been asking numerous questions only to have the bird answer "nevermore." Kind of like when Spongebob and Patrick had a magic conch shell and whenever Squidward would ask it a question, he would always get "no" as a response.
“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 name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
Then Poe writes about 60 more words that basically mean "GET OUT!!" 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!
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