THE RAVEN by Edgar Allen Poe (Illustrated) - NIGHT'S PLUTONIAN NEVERMORE VERSION
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- čas přidán 26. 09. 2020
- Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, and illustrated reading of The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe.
Read by Mike Bennett:
www.mikebennettauthor.com
Illustrated by Christopher Steininger
WEBSITE: bitly.ws/nSaK
SUBSTACK: bitly.ws/nSaH
INSTAGRAM: bitly.ws/nSay
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-
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, 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 for evermore.
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.”
Presently 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 there 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, then, what thereat 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 Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas 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 it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled 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 yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered-not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and 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 burden bore
Of ‘Never-nevermore’.”
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
For the rest of the poem:
www.poetryfoundation.org/poem...
#halloween #edgarallenpoe #horror #horrorstories #theraven - Zábava
Well that was fucking depressing. We read this at school when I was a kid but has a different impact when you actually experienced losing someone.
I've had this poem memorized for years but now after this, it is now your cadence and art that plays through my head when I recite it. Stupendous art and recitation.
Came for Lovecraft, stayed for Allen Poe. Your channel is fantastic, I’ve subscribed!
same here
Perfect for Halloween! Very atmospheric artwork
Thanks, Thomas!
First time that I've heard a recitation that gives Basil Rathbone's version a run for its money.
Did our doomed protagonist have to have such an inelegant, to put it mildly, visage?
this is glorious, I would like to pet that lovely, fluffy raven. I think he deserves it. he did nothing wrong. it was all the narrator, he could've just chilled.
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- Only this and nothing more.” Ah, 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 for evermore. 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.” Presently 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 there 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, then, what thereat 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 Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door- Perched upon a bust of Pallas 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 it wore, “Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore- Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!” Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” Much I marvelled 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 yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as “Nevermore.” But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered-not a feather then he fluttered- Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.” Then the bird said “Nevermore.” Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, “Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and 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 burden bore Of ‘Never-nevermore’.” But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore- What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking “Nevermore.” This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er, But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls 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!” Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” “Prophet!” said I, “thing 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 me-tell me, I implore!” Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” “Prophet!” said I, “thing 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 Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore- Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.” Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.” “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting- “Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian 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!” Quoth the Raven “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 lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted-nevermore!
Somehow, I had a feeling you would do this one someday :)
Your illustrations are magnificent! Thank you!
I memorized this and performed it many times throughout my life, it’s wonderful to see it illustrated…and voiced do excellently
Excellent! This reading of Poe's classic is the best I've ever listened to. Illustrations are also great! I think Vincent Price himself would have loved it.
Wow - thanks for the kind words. I really loved doing this. Glad you appreciated it !
Love it. Doing this at a little poetry reading before Halloween, the way the voice actor let's his voice break and change is excellent
Supremely underrated video
This is amazing. Thank you.
Amazing visuals and narration
Amazing Work!!!!!! Thanks a lot👍
This is a masterpiece!
love it
Good stuff! Thank you!
Amazing 👍
Very good rendition ...
Very good. Very well done
The Great and only Poe, one of my favorite. Amazing graphic work ¿what software did you used for animate the images?
🕊️ Awesome Bro! 👍
Very cool,👍😃more vids plz.
Thanks! Will do!
Art work = Great, Narration = Great. But the original poem itself seems like a concoction of a madman.
Thanks very much!
The concoction of a madman? From Poe? You don't say?
Holy shit...that was amazing. And fucking depressing. Hits hard. Good job
you deserve so many more subs man! your narrations are nice and the animation looks amazing
Could I use this for a presentation in my school referentially?
What leads edgar allan poe to write The Raven?
Please somebodyyy helppp huhu
The lost of a love. Virginia Clemm. He then wrote Anabel Lee and the Raven to describe his agony and the sadness he was feeling. This death drove him to become an alcoholic. She was his cousin. She was 13 years when they got married and died 11 years later at the age of 24.
DUDE, don't leave a typo in the title, in the very name of the author!
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_Allan_Poe
So, the man just so happened to open his window to a raven that can only speak the word “never more” and it reminded him how he would never see his darling Lenore again because of the word the raven was speaking, and ended up killing the man possibly due to heart attack? Damn
Ur er yuo hewil mitt for. End engelsk. The reven litteratur bly3 my ledy. . Thereven 😢😅
@@larsivarevensen wym I spoke perfectly right there. There was no grammer, or spelling issues. If you’re 7 or a drop out then just say it
Hi can i use this for a music video?
I really love this. Sensational, truly~
Is this Edgar Allen Poe guy a relative of the more famous Edgar Allan?
I have posted a paper, "Evidence that Edgar Allan Poe Stole 'The Raven' from Mathew Franklin Whittier," which is downloadable at the following link. It can also be found by searching on the title on Academia.edu.
www.ial.goldthread.com/MFW_The_Raven.pdf
great work! have to say I hate this reader, heard him on librivox doing lovecraft stuff and, something is just really off about his diction
Nice work.
One thing: Poe was an American. He was not elite.
What's with the accent?
He wouldn't have sounded like modern Americans either
@@Survivethejive Granted.
My point still stands.
He would have read Shakespeare and studied Greek and Latin. His schoolmaster would have been very harsh if he mispronounced or rushed words in class. Even up to the 1950's you could hear, on TV, how celebrities spoke with an emphasis on proper diction and elocution. Check out any episode of What's My Line on CZcams.
By the way, search for, "The Raven" as recited by Bail Rathbone, another Brit who gave an incredible performance of the poem.
Your delivery is outstanding and the artwork is amazing, but I enjoyed Christopher Lees version more, sorry.
Beautiful drawings. Can’t do the fake accent; it’s distracting. Just have the narrator read it straight. Poe was American anyway. Or grab a real Englishman off the street