The Raven: Illustrated
1845
No poem in American literature pulses with such dark music. First published in 1845, "The Raven" cemented Edgar Allan Poe's reputation as the master of the macabre, but what makes it endure is not its supernatural trappings - it's the unbearable honesty of its grief. A student sits alone on a December night, drinking and poring over "a tome of forgotten lore," trying to drown thoughts of his dead beloved Lenore. Then a raven arrives - dark, imperious, unforgettable. Perched upon a bust of Pallas, it regards him with knowing eyes and speaks a single word: "Nevermore." What follows is a desperate interrogation. The speaker asks about his lost love, about hope, about the afterlife - and the raven's answer is always the same. Each "nevermore" tightens the screw of his despair, until he realizes the word is not an answer but a sentence. He will never be free of this grief. The poem's trochaic octameter rolls through like a funeral march, each alliterative phrase catching in the throat like a spell. This is a grief that refuses to resolve into peace. This edition pairs Poe's definitive text with twenty-six engravings by Gustave Doré, whose shadowy, theatrical vision renders the poem's midnight chamber and that terrible bird with an artistry that has made this the edition collectors treasure.
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“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door”
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.””
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.””
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Leave my loneliness unbroken””
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore...””
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Here I opened wide the door;”
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censerSwung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor."Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee--Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"Quothe the Raven, "Nevermore.””
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals 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!"”
— Edgar Allan Poe
“Darkness there, and nothing more.””
— Edgar Allan Poe
