Edgar Allan Poe's \"The Raven\" - Full Narration w/Background Music
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
once upon a midnight dreary while I pondered weak and weary over a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, while I nodded nearly napping. Suddenly there came a tapping as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door to some visitor I modern tapping at my chamber door. Only this, and nothing more distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. 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, forevermore on 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 to some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door that it is and nothing more. Prison Lee. 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 wide the door darkness there and nothing more. 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 they're spoken was the whispered word, Lenore. This I whispered and an echo murmured back the word Lenore. Merely this and nothing more back into the chamber. Turning all my soul within me burning soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before surely said I surely that is something at my window. Lattice, Let me see that. What? There it is And this mystery explore Let my heart be still a moment And this mystery explore tis the wind and nothing more open here. I flung the shutter when, with many a flirt and flutter in there stepped a stately rave in of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he not a minute stopped or stayed he but with mine of Lord or lady perched above my chamber door perched upon a bust of palace just above my chamber door, perched and sat and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling, my sad fancy into smiling by the grave and stern decorum of the countenance of war. Thou thy crest be shorn and shaven. Thou, I said art sure know Craven, ghastly, grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore. Tell me what my lordly name is on the nights Plutonium Shore. Quoth the raven. Nevermore much. I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, though it's answer little meaning little relevancy bore for We cannot help agreeing that no living human being ever yet was blessed with seeing Bird above his chamber door, bird or beast upon the sculpted bust above his chamber door with such name as nevermore. But the Ravens, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only that one word, as if his soul in that one word did. He outpour nothing farther than he muttered, not a feather that he fluttered till I scarcely more than muttered. Other friends have flown before. On tomorrow he will leave me as my hopes have flown before that, the bird said nevermore startled at the stillness, broken by reply so aptly spoken doubtless said I. What it utters is it's only stock in store. Caught from some unhappy master whom Unmerciful disaster followed fast and followed faster till his songs, one burden bore till the dirges of his hope that melancholy bird bore of never, never more but the Ravens still beguiling All my fancy into smiling straight, I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of Bird and Busted Door. Then upon the velvet sinking, I Be took myself to linking fancy unto fancy thinking. What this ominous bird of yore with the grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore meant in croquet, never wore this. I sat engaged in guessing but no syllable expressing to the foul whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosoms core. This and more. I sat divine ing with my head. It ease reclining on the cushions, velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er but whose velvet violet lining with the lamp like loading o'er. She shall press nevermore. Then methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen sensor swung by Seraphim, whose footfalls tinkled on the tuft floor. Wretch, I cried by God hath lengthy by these angels. He had sent thee respite, respite and a pen thief from my memories of Lenore quaff Oh, quaff this kinda Pentti and forget this lost Lenore. Quoth the raven. Nevermore profits said I think 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 Tell me. I implore Quoth the raven nevermore prophet said, I think of evil prophet still if bird or devil by that heaven that bends above us by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden If within the distant Aidan it shall clasp a sainted maiden will be angels Name Lenore Clasp A rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore crossed the Ravens Nevermore be that word. Our sign of parting bird or fiend? I shrieked up Starting Get the back into the tempest and the night's plutonium shore Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken. Leave my loneliness unbroken. Quit the bust above my door. Take thy beak from out my heart and take thy form from off my door cough The Ravens nevermore 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 and the lamplight over him streaming throws, his shadow on the floor and my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor shall be lifted never more.