Materials: Poems " To Helen" by Edgar Allen Poe

Overview: The second lesson is designed to help students understand how devices of sound, such as repetition, alliteration, consonance, internal rhyme, refrain and onomatopoeia, govern the mood within a poem. In this lesson, students will also be introduced to the Romantic ideas- self-absorbed, tormented speaker reflects the Romantic focus on the self; the exotic past. They will demonstrate their understanding of the devices of sound in the poem by listing three examples of each device and describe how each device is used to create the mood.

    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 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!"-
                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 blest 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 further 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 lamplight gloated o'er,
  But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er,
                She shall press, ah, nevermore!

    Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
  Swung 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!"
                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 in 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 lamplight 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!

Procedures and Activities:






Start the class by discussing the title of the poem "Raven"-its symbolic meaning. What mood could be created in the poem by this image?
Read the last line of each stanza and discuss why "nevermore" is repetitiously used(refrain)? What poetic effect is created through this repetition?(single effect-hypnotic, eerie gloom)
Read the first sentence of the poem and point out how each element of it contributes to the single effect(midnight dreary", "weak and weary", and "pondered"-the internal rhyme and alliteration of w sounds contribute to the hypnotic effect.
While reading--
circle the words which have the same beginning consonant( nearly napping, ghastly grim, followed fast)-alliteration .
underline the lines in which rhyme occurs within a line( Nothing farther then he uttered, not a feather then he fluttered)-internal rhyme.
When finish reading, discuss and answer the following questions:
What is the only word the raven speaks? In stanza 9, to what does the speaker think the word relates? How does he explain the word when the raven first repeat it(line62-66)?
The first stanza presents a speaker who is physically exhausted and under obvious emotional strain. He reads to distract himself from sorrow., but the "quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore" implies a taste for the occult or the fantastic. How do these details relate to his later assumption that the raven is an agent of the supernatural?
The second stanza establishes the speaker's grief for the lost Lenore, and the third stanza sharply increases the emotional tension. Why, in lines 15-18, does he need to reassure himself by repeating that the tapping is only some late-night visitor and "nothing more"? What else does he seem to expect?
At first, the raven makes the speaker smile (line43). But his first speech to the raven associates the bird with Pluto, the ruler of infernal regions (line45-48). What does this tell us about what is truly in his mind?
Lines 49-78 take speaker through a number of reactions: surprise that the bird speaks; the melancholy assumption that this companion will fly from him as "other friends" have done; a sensible explanation of how the bird may have learned its single word; and even playful amusement. Still, it becomes clear that, beneath his apparent assurance, the speaker is moving toward hysteria. What loss of control is indicated in line 74? Why is it appropriate that the stanza should end with the speaker now using the word nevermore? 
About what does the speaker begin to think that when he wheels his chair in front of the raven (lines 69-72)?
From line 79 on the speaker seems to lose whatever emotional control he had. How is the disorder of his senses indicated in lines 79-80?
Where is the raven now? What will never be lifted from the raven's shadow?
Since the raven repeats only the single word, the significance of " Nevermore" as an answer depends entirely on the question asked. I the dialogue of lines 81-95, how does the speaker use the bird to confirm his own worst fears?
What does the speaker interpret "nevermore" in line 84 and in line 96 to mean? What do you know about the raven's answer that the speaker does not realize?
What does the raven come to represent for the speaker? What does "Plutonian shore"(line98) suggest about the speaker's final evaluation of the raven? Of himself?
After the frenzy with which he proclaims that the raven's word is a "lie" and tries to drive the bird from him, the speaker seems strangely calm in the last stanza, as if he had recovered his reason. How does the repetition of the phrase "still is sitting"(line103) indicate that this is not so? How does the poet make this repeated phrase sound even more ominous? Which other lines in the final stanza suggest that the speaker may never return to his sense?]
Evaluate the speaker's emotional state at the beginning of the poem, in the last but one stanza, and in the last stanza. What does the future probably hold for the speaker?
Follow-up Activities:
In a famous essay, "The Philosophy of Composition," Poe gives an account of how he wrote "The Raven". First he decided what the effect of the poem was to be, then he chose a subject and poetic devices, and finally, he worked out the form of his stanzas and the details of the narrative. Locate the essay in a collection of Poe's works, read it and then write an imaginary account of the composition of "To Hellen". In the imaginary account, (1)present Poe's theory of poetry, (2)then describe the intended effect of the poem, (3)and finally, tell how you (as Poe) went about creating the effect.

Appendix:
Poe said that when he set out to write a poem with a melancholy 
effect, the word "nevermore" was the first word that came into his mind, both for its sound and for its meaning. The subject of the poem, he decided, had to be the death of a beautiful woman, " " unquestionably , the most poetical topic in the world." His first thought was to have nevermore repeated by a parrot, but he saw greater possibilities in a raven, "the bird of ill omen," an emblem of " Mournful and Never-ending Remembrance."

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Links to Poe's Poetry: http://www.rit.edu/~exb1874/mine/poe/poe_ind.html

Poe's biography: http://www.geocities.com/EnchantedForest/Dell/3627/
             
Read about Poe's life, his wife, and his friends: http://www.nadn.navy.mil/EnglishDept/poeperplex/poe1.htm

 

See the outline for writing the critical essay on The Raven

Annabel Lee

    It was many and many a year ago,
          In a kingdom by the sea,
    That a maiden there lived whom you may know
          By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
    And this maiden she lived with no other thought
          Than to love and be loved by me.

    I was a child and she was a child,
          In this kingdom by the sea;
    But we loved with a love that was more than love-
          I and my Annabel Lee;
    With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
          Coveted her and me.

    And this was the reason that, long ago,
          In this kingdom by the sea,
    A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
          My beautiful Annabel Lee;
    So that her highborn kinsman came
          And bore her away from me,
    To shut her up in a sepulchre
          In this kingdom by the sea.

    The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
          Went envying her and me-
    Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
          In this kingdom by the sea)
    That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
          Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

    But our love it was stronger by far than the love
          Of those who were older than we-
          Of many far wiser than we-
    And neither the angels in heaven above,
          Nor the demons down under the sea,
    Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

    For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
    And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
          Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
    And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
    Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
          In the sepulchre there by the sea,
          In her tomb by the sounding sea.

 

The Bells

                         I
          Hear the sledges with the bells-
                   Silver bells!
   What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
          How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
              In the icy air of night!
          While the stars that oversprinkle
          All the heavens, seem to twinkle
             With a crystalline delight;
                Keeping time, time, time,
             In a sort of Runic rhyme,
   To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells
             From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
                   Bells, bells, bells-
   From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

                        II

          Hear the mellow wedding bells,
                   Golden bells!
   What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
          Through the balmy air of night
          How they ring out their delight!
            From the molten-golden notes,
                   And an in tune,
            What a liquid ditty floats
   To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
                   On the moon!
          Oh, from out the sounding cells,
   What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!
                   How it swells!
                   How it dwells
            On the Future! how it tells
            Of the rapture that impels
          To the swinging and the ringing
            Of the bells, bells, bells,
          Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
                   Bells, bells, bells-
   To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

                        III

          Hear the loud alarum bells-
                   Brazen bells!
   What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!
          In the startled ear of night
        How they scream out their affright!
          Too much horrified to speak,
          They can only shriek, shriek,
                   Out of tune,
   In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,
   In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,
          Leaping higher, higher, higher,
            With a desperate desire,
          And a resolute endeavor,
          Now- now to sit or never,
        By the side of the pale-faced moon.
           Oh, the bells, bells, bells!
           What a tale their terror tells
                   Of Despair!
         How they clang, and clash, and roar!
         What a horror they outpour
       On the bosom of the palpitating air!
           Yet the ear it fully knows,
                   By the twanging,
                   And the clanging,
           How the danger ebbs and flows:
           Yet the ear distinctly tells,
                   In the jangling,
                   And the wrangling,
           How the danger sinks and swells,
   By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells-
                   Of the bells-
           Of the bells, bells, bells,bells,
                 Bells, bells, bells-
      In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!

                        IV

          Hear the tolling of the bells-
                   Iron Bells!
   What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
          In the silence of the night,
          How we shiver with affright
     At the melancholy menace of their tone!
          For every sound that floats
          From the rust within their throats
                    Is a groan.
          And the people- ah, the people-
          They that dwell up in the steeple,
                   All Alone
          And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
            In that muffled monotone,
          Feel a glory in so rolling
            On the human heart a stone-
          They are neither man nor woman-
          They are neither brute nor human-
                   They are Ghouls:
            And their king it is who tolls;
            And he rolls, rolls, rolls,
                   Rolls
              A paean from the bells!
          And his merry bosom swells
            With the paean of the bells!
          And he dances, and he yells;
          Keeping time, time, time,
          In a sort of Runic rhyme,
            To the paean of the bells-
                   Of the bells:
          Keeping time, time, time,
          In a sort of Runic rhyme,
            To the throbbing of the bells-
          Of the bells, bells, bells-
            To the sobbing of the bells;
          Keeping time, time, time,
            As he knells, knells, knells,
          In a happy Runic rhyme,
            To the rolling of the bells-
          Of the bells, bells, bells:
            To the tolling of the bells,
          Of the bells, bells, bells, bells-
            Bells, bells, bells-
    To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.

 

To Helen

    I saw thee once- once only- years ago:
    I must not say how many- but not many.
    It was a July midnight; and from out
    A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
    Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
    There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
    With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
    Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
    Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
    Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe-
    Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
    That gave out, in return for the love-light,
    Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death-
    Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
    That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted
    By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence.

    Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
    I saw thee half reclining; while the moon
    Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses,
    And on thine own, upturn'd- alas, in sorrow!

    Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight-
    Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,)
    That bade me pause before that garden-gate,
    To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses?
    No footstep stirred: the hated world an slept,
    Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven!- oh, God!
    How my heart beats in coupling those two words!)
    Save only thee and me. I paused- I looked-
    And in an instant all things disappeared.
    (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!)

    The pearly lustre of the moon went out:
    The mossy banks and the meandering paths,
    The happy flowers and the repining trees,
    Were seen no more: the very roses' odors
    Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
    All- all expired save thee- save less than thou:
    Save only the divine light in thine eyes-
    Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes.
    I saw but them- they were the world to me!
    I saw but them- saw only them for hours,
    Saw only them until the moon went down.
    What wild heart-histories seemed to he enwritten
    Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
    How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope!
    How silently serene a sea of pride!
    How daring an ambition; yet how deep-
    How fathomless a capacity for love!

    But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight,
    Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
    And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
    Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained;
    They would not go- they never yet have gone;
    Lighting my lonely pathway home that night,
    They have not left me (as my hopes have) since;
    They follow me- they lead me through the years.
    They are my ministers- yet I their slave.
    Their office is to illumine and enkindle-
    My duty, to be saved by their bright light,
    And purified in their electric fire,
    And sanctified in their elysian fire.
    They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope),
    And are far up in Heaven- the stars I kneel to
    In the sad, silent watches of my night;
    While even in the meridian glare of day
    I see them still- two sweetly scintillant
    Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!