The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket Comprising the details of a mutiny and atrocious butchery on board the American brig Grampus, on her way to the South Seas, in the month of June, 1827.

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 22

force the crate from its ground, I felt a strong vibration in the
side next me. I thrust my hand eagerly to the edge of the planks, and
found that a very large one was loose. With my pocket-knife, which
luckily I had with me, I succeeded, after great labour, in prying it
entirely off; and, getting through the aperture, discovered, to my
exceeding joy, that there were no boards on the opposite side--in other
words, that the top was wanting, it being the bottom through which I
had forced my way. I now met with no important difficulty in proceeding
along the line until I finally reached the nail. With a beating heart I
stood erect, and with a gentle touch pressed against the cover of the
trap. It did not rise as soon as I had expected, and I pressed it with
somewhat more determination, still dreading lest some other person than
Augustus might be in his stateroom. The door, however, to my
astonishment, remained steady, and I became somewhat uneasy, for I knew
that it had formerly required little or no effort to remove it. I
pushed it strongly--it was nevertheless firm: with all my strength--it
still did not give way: with rage, with fury, with despair--it set at
defiance my utmost efforts; and it was evident, from the unyielding
nature of the resistance, that the hole had either been discovered and
effectually nailed up, or that some immense weight had been placed upon
it, which it was useless to think of removing.

My sensations were those of extreme horror and dismay. In vain I
attempted to reason on the probable cause of my being thus entombed. I
could summon up no connected chain of reflection, and, sinking on the
floor, gave way, unresistingly, to the most gloomy imaginings, in which
the dreadful deaths of thirst, famine, suffocation, and premature
interment, crowded upon me as the prominent disasters to be
encountered. At length there returned to me some portion of presence of
mind. I arose, and felt with my fingers for the seams or cracks of the
aperture. Having found them, I examined them closely to ascertain if
they emitted any light from the stateroom; but none was visible. I then
forced the penblade of my knife through them, until I met with some
hard obstacle. Scraping against it, I discovered it to be a solid mass
of iron, which, from its peculiar wavy feel as I passed the blade along
it, I concluded to be a chain-cable. The only course now left me was to
retrace my way to the box,

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Text Comparison with The Raven Illustrated

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provided by the Internet Archive THE RAVEN By Edgar Allan Poe Illustrated New York E.
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" [Illustration: 9015] 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 .
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wide the door: Darkness there and nothing more.
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When, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven [Illustration: 8020] Of the saintly days of yore.
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" Wondering 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.
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master Whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster, So when hope he would adjure, Stern despair returned, Instead of the sweet hope he dared adjure, That sad answer, "Nevermore.
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" [Illustration: 0029] [Illustration: 0031] [Illustration: 9031] "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!" .
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" 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, .
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And the lamplight 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! [Illustration: 0035].