Quoth The Raven

Le Rack

Anyone know where I can get a hold of this by Edgar Alan Poe?

KTRIC

It's in a book called "The Raven & Other Poems and Tales". I think I got my hardback copy in Waterstones on Dawson St.

Capt'n Midnight

Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals roughly piled, and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bedsheets, still I sat there, doing spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line, I found the diskette that was mine.
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command,
And waited for the file to store - only this and nothing more.

Deep into the phosphor peering, Long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept turning, churning yet to churn some more.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother. Save my data, and no other!"
Just one thing the screen did render, message bold, but never tender,
Only this and nothing more - just "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, and ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully, I weighed the choices, as the disk made dev'lish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting ... baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, to make the choice of one from three,
Selecting from, "Abort, Retry, Ignore"?

With my fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, so lightly did I press a key.
But on the screen there still persisted - words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying to me one time more, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

I tried to catch the chips off guard; I pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with that cursed demon, begged and cried, and then I swore.
Flailing now in desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, without thinking, winking nonsense I abhore,
Words that at my senses tore, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by mine own machine accosted.
Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor.
Whereupon, a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, and it shook me to the core.
Lightning zapped my precious data, lost and gone forevermore.
Now in darkness I abhor, not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world is wrought where data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, in black holes?
But sure as there's a C and Lotus, Ashton-Tate and many more,
You'll be someday left to wander, lost upon some dismal shore,
Beseeching fickle Gods of yore, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"

-- Author unknown

Or google for - Poe Nevermore - it should be on guttenberg somewhere too as a free download

KTRIC

The actual name of the Poem is "The Raven". Might help when you are searching.

Le Rack

Capt'n midnight is funny......
But thanx banta and capt'n been looking for it for ages and even google wasn't helping....

Capt'n Midnight

Le Rack wrote:

Capt'n midnight is funny......
But thanx banta and capt'n been looking for it for ages and even google wasn't helping....

Try these words in google
poe site:gutenberg.org

www.gutenberg.org/etext/10031

Le Rack

thanx man! "bert, your shouting again, bert"

theCzar

I love that poem, it creates a brilliant atmosphere, i've been trying to learn it off by heart for a while but it's very long... i've got about half it in my head, i'd love to be able to narrate it in that sinister voice they use in simpsons halloween special!

ObeyGiant

There's an MP3 out there of Christopher Walken reciting the Raven, and it's the most perfect version I've ever heard. His bizarre intonations make it all extra creepy.

Zillah

I...can't imagine Poe is still under copyright so....


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 named 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 darkness 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 above 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 further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow will he 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 sad soul 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, 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 violet 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 has 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 named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named 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!

- Edgar Allen Poe

Le Rack

Excellent!! Thanx Man!!

OY

If anyone could point me to the aforementioned Walken rendition i would appreciate it a lot.
Also, judos to Capt Midnight for that version...

Goodshape

'tis here.

Google's a nice site btw

OY

Much appreciated.
Feeling lazt tonight! :rolleyes:

theCzar

Goodshape wrote:

'tis here.

Google's a nice site btw

classic

Le Rack

Thank you!!!

Zillah

Yeah you people really need to learn how to use google.


Like really, I searched for "Poe the raven" and the first result was what i posted there.

OY

Zillah wrote:

Yeah you people really need to learn how to use google.


Like really, I searched for "Poe the raven" and the first result was what i posted there.

So what is this google thing that everyone keeps talking about

Le Rack

okay can we assume your being sarcastic???? and in case your not its a huge search engine thats really good.

theCzar

Le Rack wrote:

okay can we assume your being sarcastic???? and in case your not its a huge search engine thats really good.

I hear they have the internet on computers now, is this true?

Goodshape

theCzar wrote:

I hear they have the internet on computers now, is this true?

No, it's all hear-say and conjecture. The Internet will never catch on.

Stupid idea tbh.

Capt'n Midnight

Once upon a time there was a series of psycological tests to see how long people would wait for something to happen. Then they tired various modifying techniques. I'm led to belive they are now investigating the calming effects of the colour blue especially in horizontal strips. Not sure how they got on , but I think it was called the internet.

Shabadu

Quoth the Raven "Eat my shorts!"




couldn't resist

Le Rack

Quite YOu all of you with your entertaining sarcasm!
Except Jr. Shabadu no thank you i already tried to eat mine and they wernt very nice!

Capt'n Midnight

Le Rack wrote:

Quite YOu all of you with your entertaining sarcasm!
Except Jr. Shabadu no thank you i already tried to eat mine and they wernt very nice!

Man is unique in two ways - the only species that can learn from the experiances of other indivicuals and the only species that wouldn't if given the chance.
http://shop.store.yahoo.com/buyinprivate/eduntastesmu.html

Chinafoot

Also check out Vincent Price reading The Tell-Tale Heart and my absolute favourite......Jeff Buckley reading Ulalume.
apparently he was coached by Ginsberg.

its amazing

Capt'n Midnight

Le Rack wrote:

entertaining sarcasm!
i already tried to eat mine and they wernt very nice!

have you tried peachypants ?

Le Rack

no I must put those in my list of things to try,,, right after banana leaves....

doonothing

that jeff buckley ulalume is amaaaaazing... so good
gotta love that raven, great poemeo