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 24

spot where I had
deposited them. But now I endeavoured in vain to call it to mind, and
busied myself for a full hour in a fruitless and vexatious search for
the missing articles; never, surely, was there a more tantalizing state
of anxiety and suspense. At length, while groping about, with my head
close to the ballast, near the opening of the box, and outside of it, I
perceived a faint glimmering of light in the direction of the steerage.
Greatly surprised, I endeavoured to make my way towards it, as it
appeared to be but a few feet from my position. Scarcely had I moved
with this intention, when I lost sight of the glimmer entirely, and,
before I could bring it into view again, was obliged to feel along by
the box until I had exactly resumed my original situation. Now, moving
my head with caution to and fro, I found that, by proceeding slowly,
with great care, in an opposite direction to that in which I had at
first started, I was enabled to draw near the light, still keeping it
in view. Presently I came directly upon it (having squeezed my way
through innumerable narrow windings), and found that it proceeded from
some fragments of my matches lying in an empty barrel turned upon its
side. I was wondering how they came in such a place, when my hand fell
upon two or three pieces of taper-wax, which had been evidently mumbled
by the dog. I concluded at once that he had devoured the whole of my
supply of candles, and I felt hopeless of being ever able to read the
note of Augustus. The small remnants of the wax were so mashed up among
other rubbish in the barrel, that I despaired of deriving any service
from them, and left them as they were. The phosphorus, of which there
was only a speck or two, I gathered up as well as I could, and returned
with it, after much difficulty, to my box, where Tiger had all the
while remained.

What to do next I could not tell. The hold was so intensely dark that I
could not see my hand, however close I would hold it to my face. The
white slip of paper could barely be discerned, and not even that when I
looked at it directly; by turning the exterior portions of the retina
towards it, that is to say, by surveying it slightly askance, I found
that it became in some measure perceptible. Thus the gloom of my prison
may be imagined, and the

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Text Comparison with Le Corbeau = The Raven

Page 0
_Ah! distinctement je me souviens que.
Page 1
Ardemment je souhaitais le jour--vainement j'avais cherché d'emprunter à mes livres un sursis au chagrin--au chagrin de la Lénore perdue--de la rare et rayonnante jeune fille que les anges nomment Lénore:--de nom pour elle ici, non, jamais plus!_ 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.
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.
Page 3
_Au large je poussai le volet; quand, avec maints enjouement et agitation d'ailes, entra un majestueux Corbeau des saints jours de jadis.
Page 4
" _Mais le Corbeau, perché solitairement sur ce buste placide, parla ce seul mot comme si, son âme, en ce seul mot, il la répandait.
Page 5
_ Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer, Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
Page 6
" _L'air, me sembla-t-il, devint alors plus dense, parfumé selon un encensoir invisible balancé par les Séraphins dont le pied, dans sa chute, tintait sur l'étoffe du parquet.
Page 7
«Recule en la tempête et le rivage plutonien de Nuit! Ne laisse pas une plume noire ici comme un gage du mensonge qu'a proféré ton âme.