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 84

took Parker
aside; and mentally praying to God for power to dissuade him from the
horrible purpose he entertained, I expostulated with him for a long
time and in the most supplicating manner, begging him in the name of
everything which he held sacred, and urging him by every species of
argument which the extremity of the case suggested, to abandon the
idea, and not to mention it to either of the other two.

He heard all I said without attempting to controvert any of my
arguments, and I had begun to hope that he would be prevailed upon to
do as I desired. But when I had ceased speaking, he said that he knew
very well all I had said was true, and that to resort to such a course
was the most horrible alternative which could enter into the mind of
man; but that he had now held out as long as human nature could be
sustained; that it was unnecessary for all to perish, when, by the
death of one, it was possible, and even probable, that the rest might
be finally preserved; adding that I might save myself the trouble of
trying to turn him from his purpose, his mind having been thoroughly
made up on the subject even before the appearance of the ship, and that
only her heaving in sight had prevented him from mentioning his
intention at an earlier period.

I now begged him, if he would not be prevailed upon to abandon his
design, at least to defer it for another day, when some vessel might
come to our relief; again reiterating every argument I could devise,
and which I thought likely to have influence with one of his rough
nature. He said, in reply, that he had not spoken until the very last
possible moment; that he could exist no longer without sustenance of
some kind; and that therefore in another day his suggestion would be
too late, as regarded himself at least.

Finding that he was not to be moved by anything I could say in a mild
tone, I now assumed a different demeanour, and told him that he must be
aware I had suffered less than any of us from our calamities; that my
health and strength, consequently, were at that moment far better than
his own, or than that either of Peters or Augustus; in short, that I
was in a condition to have my own way by force if I found it necessary;
and that, if he attempted in any manner to acquaint the others with his
bloody and cannibal designs,

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Text Comparison with The Raven

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* * * * * THE RAVEN BY EDGAR ALLAN POE ILLUSTRATED BY GUSTAVE DORE [Illustration] WITH COMMENT BY EDMUND C.
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'" _W.
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Tietze.
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King.
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Tietze.
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Where there was nothing, it remains,--a new creation, part of the treasure of mankind.
Page 6
Still, one of these lyrics, in its smaller way, affects us with a sense of uniqueness, as surely as the sublimer works of a supernatural cast,--Marlowe's "Faustus," the "Faust" of Goethe, "Manfred," or even those ethereal masterpieces, "The Tempest" and "A Midsummer Night's Dream.
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In no other of its author's poems is the motive more palpably defined.
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The statement that it was not afterward revised is erroneous.
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In melody and stanzaic form, we shall see that the two poems are not unlike, but in motive they are totally distinct.
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Escaped across the Styx, from.
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Verse cannot be better designated than as an inferior or less capable music"; but again, verse which is really the "Poetry of Words" is "The Rhythmical Creation of Beauty,"--this and nothing more.
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at its calamity.
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is dead," etc.
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Hence his success with Rabelais, with "Le Juif-Errant," "Les Contes Drolatiques," and "Don Quixote," and hence, conversely, his failure to express the beauty of Tennyson's Idyls, of "Il Paradiso," of the Hebrew pastorals, and other texts requiring exaltation, or sweetness and repose.
Page 17
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 name Lenore-- Nameless here for evermore.
Page 19
" This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my.
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" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.
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" [Illustration] "Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.
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Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.