The herald. (Smyrna, Del.) 1870-1871, 1871-04-01

I'VE give below Edgar Alien foe seicpi
ted poem, 'The Raven" 1t is undoubted
one of the finest productions of Americi
literature, and will doubtless be perus
with pleasure by many of our readers.-E
HERALD.
Opce upon midnight dreary,
While pondered, weak and weary,
over many quaint and curious
Volume of forgotten lore,-
While nodded, nearly mapping,
Suddenly there came tapping,
AS of some one gently rapping.
Rapping at my chamber-door;
mTis some visitor" muttered,
"Tapping at my chamber-door,-
Only this, and nothing more"
All! distinctly remember,
It was in the bleak December,
And each separate, dying ember
Wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly 1 wished the morrow
Vainly Rad 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 forevermore.
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, 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"
Presently my soul grew stronger;
Hesitating then.no longer,
"Sir." SAID /, "or madam, truly
Your forgiveness l implore;
But the fact is, was mapping,
And so gently you CAME rapping,
And so family you came tapping,
Tapping at my chamber-door,
That scarce was ssIe heard you,"-
He.e open'd wide the door,
Darkness there. anu nothing more.
Deep into the darkness peerihg,
Long 1 stood there, wond'ring, tearing.
Doubling, dreaming dreams no mortal
Ever dared to dream beforei
But the silence was unbroken,
And the Illness gave no tokeh'
And the only word there spoken
Was the whispered word, "LenoreF T.
This 1 WHISPERED, land an echo
Murmer'd back the word, "Lenore''
Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning,
All my sohl within me burning,
soon again heard tapping,
somewhat louder than before.
"surcly," said l, 'sure,y, that IS
something at my window-lattice;
Let me. see, then, what thercat is,
And this mystery eXplore;-
Let my heart be still moment,
And this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind, and nothing more"
Open here flung the shutter,
When. with many fiirt and fiutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven
OF the sanity days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he;
Not mlhute stopped or stayed he;
But. with mein of lord or lady,
Perch'd above my chamber-door,-
Perch'd upon bust of Pallas,
lust above my c4iulliDCl -N'Sht
Perch'd, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiiing
My sad fancy into smiling,
BY the grave and SAD decorum
OF the countenance it wore,
Though thy crest be shorn and shaven,
Thou" said, "art sure no craven,
CHASTITY, grim, and ancient Raven,
Wandering from the nightly Shore
Tel me what thy lordly name is
On the nights Plutonian shore!'
ouoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvell'd this ungainly
Fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning
Little relevancy-bore;
For we cannot help agreeing
That no living human being
Ever vet was blessed with seeing
Bird above his chamber-door,-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured
Bust upon his chamber-door,-
With such name as Nevermore"
But the Raven, sitting lonely
on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as If his soul in
That one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he utter'd;-
Not n feather then he flutter'd;-
TIL scarcely more than mutter'd,
"Other frienus have flown before
On the morrow he Will leave me,
AS my hopes have flown before"
Then the bird said, "Never more"
Startled at the stiffness broken
BY reply SO apply spoken,
"Ooubtless," said "what It utters
Is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master,
Whom unmerciful disaster
FOLLOWED fast and follow'd faster,
Till his songs one burden BORE
Till the dirges of his hope that
Melancholy burden bore
OF 'Never-never more"
But the Raven, still beguiling
All my sad soul into smiling,
Straight l wheel'd q cushioned seat in
Front of bird ana bust and door;
Then upon the velvet sinking,
l betook myself to linking
Fancy unto faucy, thinking
What this ominous bird of yores-
What this grim, ungainly, CHASTITY,
Gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking, "Never more"
This sat engaged in guessing,
But no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now
Burned into my bosom's core;
This and more sat divining,
With my head at ease reclining
on the cushions velvet lining
That the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lii ing
With the lamp-light gloating DER
She shall press, all, never more.