Le Corbeau = The Raven

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 2


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 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.

_Loin dans l'ombre regardant, je me tins longtemps à douter,
m'étonner et craindre, à rêver des rêves qu'aucun mortel n'avait osé
rêver encore; mais le silence ne se rompit point et la quiétude ne
donna de signe: et le seul mot qui se dit, fut le mot chuchoté
«Lénore!» Je le chuchotai--et un écho murmura de retour le mot
«Lénore!»--purement cela et rien de plus._

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."

_Rentrant dans la chambre, toute mon âme en feu, j'entendis bientôt
un heurt en quelque sorte plus fort qu'auparavant. «Sûrement, dis-je,
sûrement c'est quelque chose à la persienne de ma fenêtre. Voyons
donc ce qu'il y a et explorons ce mystère--que mon coeur se calme
un moment et explore ce mystère; c'est le vent et rien de plus.»_

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 an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord and lady, perched above my chamber door--
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door--

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Text Comparison with The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 5

Page 2
_Every one knows that a large floor _may.
Page 3
In the matter of glass, generally, we proceed upon false.
Page 6
The designs themselves are often seen to better advantage in this latter position, but the general appearance of the chamber is injured.
Page 13
"But for your exceeding minuteness," he said, "in describing the monster, I might never have had it in my power to demonstrate to you what it was.
Page 14
anyone so keenly alive to a joke as the king was.
Page 71
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Page 74
With a shout I called attention to the fact, and it became immediately obvious to all.
Page 75
We rushed out _en masse_ to bring in the mangled remains of the victim, but had the happiness to meet him upon the staircase, coming up in an unaccountable hurry, brimful of the most ardent philosophy, and more than ever impressed with the necessity of prosecuting our experiment with vigor and with zeal.
Page 78
The Doctor immediately repaired to his wardrobe, and soon returned with a black dress coat, made in Jennings' best manner, a pair of sky-blue plaid pantaloons with straps, a pink gingham chemise, a flapped vest of brocade, a white sack overcoat, a walking cane with a hook, a hat with no brim, patent-leather boots, straw-colored kid gloves, an eye-glass, a pair of whiskers, and a waterfall cravat.
Page 80
"With great pleasure," he said.
Page 97
" The poem just cited is especially beautiful; but the poetic elevation which it induces we must refer chiefly to our sympathy in the poet's enthusiasm.
Page 98
Excellence, in a poem especially, may be considered in the light of an axiom, which need only be properly _put, _to become self-evident.
Page 102
Take her up tenderly; Lift her with care; Fashion'd so slenderly, Young, and so fair! Ere her limbs frigidly Stiffen too rigidly, Decently,--kindly,-- Smooth and compose them; And her eyes, close them, Staring so blindly! Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity, As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity.
Page 112
Page 122
And he dances, and he yells; Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the paean of the bells-- Of the bells:-- Keeping time, time, time, In a sort of Runic rhyme, To the throbbing of the bells-- Of the bells, bells, bells-- To the sobbing of the bells:-- Keeping time, time, time, As he knells, knells, knells, In a happy Runic rhyme, To the rolling of the bells-- Of the bells, bells, bells:-- To the tolling of the bells-- Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells-- To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
Page 164
Not mother, with her first-born on her knee, Thrills with intenser love than I for thee.
Page 171
Page 173
I say established; for it is with literature as with law or empire-an established name is an estate in tenure, or a throne in possession.
Page 187
Part II.
Page 227
Slowly, silently we wandered From the open cottage door, Underneath the elm's long branches To the pavement bending o'er; Underneath the mossy willow And the dying sycamore.