His Hideous Heart edited by Dahlia Adler

His Hideous Heart
edited by Dahlia Adler
narrated by contributors

Published: 2020
Publisher: Flatiron Books
Hardback: 480
Rating: 4
Short Stories, Horror, YA, Edgar Allan Poe stories re-imagined | Goodreads

Contributors:
Kendare Blake (reimagining “Metzengerstein”)
Rin Chupeco (“The Murders in the Rue Morgue”)
Lamar Giles (“The Oval Portrait”)
Tessa Gratton (“Annabel Lee”)
Tiffany D. Jackson (“The Cask of Amontillado”)
Stephanie Kuehn (“The Tell-Tale Heart”)
Emily Lloyd-Jones (“The Purloined Letter”)
Hillary Monahan (“The Masque of the Red Death”)
Marieke Nijkamp (“Hop-Frog”)
Caleb Roehrig (“The Pit and the Pendulum”)
Fran Wilde (“The Fall of the House of Usher”)

Edgar Allan Poe may be a hundred and fifty years beyond this world, but the themes of his beloved works have much in common with modern young adult fiction. Whether the stories are familiar to readers or discovered for the first time, readers will revel in Edgar Allan Poe’s classic tales, and how they’ve been brought to life in 13 unique and unforgettable ways.

My two-bits:

Contemporary YA tweak to Edgar Allan Poe tales sure gave modern day chills.

Makes me want to go back to re-read Poe, especially the lesser known stories (to me).

~*~
* Listened to audiobook version.
* Filipino mention in Rin Chupeco's story
* part of Fraterfest (here)

Of Monsters and Madness by Jessica Verday

Of Monsters and Madness
by Jessica Verday

Find out more about this book and author:
Amazon
Website
Blog
Facebook
Goodreads
Twitter @

Just released: September 9, 2014
Publisher: EgmontUSA
Genre: Edgar Allan Poe theme, Horror, YA
Hardback: 288 pages
Rating: 4

A romantic, historical retelling of classic Gothic horror featuring Edgar Allan Poe and his character Annabel Lee, from a New York Times best-selling author.

Annabel Lee is summoned from Siam to live with her father in 1820's Philadelphia shortly after her mother's death, but an unconventional upbringing makes her repugnant to her angry, secretive father.

Annabel becomes infatuated with her father's assistant Allan, who dabbles in writing when he's not helping with medical advancements. But in darker hours, when she's not to be roaming the house, she encounters the devilish assistant Edgar, who bears an uncanny resemblance to Allan, and who others insist doesn't exist.

A rash of murders across Philadelphia, coupled with her father's strange behavior, leads Annabel to satisfy her curiosity and uncover a terrible truth: Edgar and Allan are two halves of the same person - and they are about to make the crimes detailed in Allan's stories come to life. Unless Annabel stops them.

My two-bits:

Got a good dose of a dark gothic Poe-like vibe with this read.

I liked how the Annabel character was portrayed as a smart tough cookie for her time period.

I was mostly kept engaged to this story because I wanted to find out what the deal was with Edgar and Allan which turned out to be very interesting.

Kinda left me hanging at the end. So, wondering if a book two is in the works.

~*~
* review copy courtesy of edelweiss

Responses from Mr Poe

L A D I E S
and
G E N T L E M E N

Questions - no more.
Mr. Poe has agreed to address some of your comments from his giveaway post here.

B E H O L D he speaks...

M.A.D. said...
Salutations to Mr. Poe! Don't enter me as I've got an old 40s copy of his works, but still I'd love to pose a question for the illustrious author:

Is it true that the fall of the house of Usher was directly related to poor construction and shoddy drywall? AND ... at what point in your *relationship* with Miss Lenore did she go to the constables regarding the unfortunate mishap with that beating heart chap?

MR POE: My dear what a series of tactless questions, sigh it is at times like these that I can only be grateful that I am so long demised, but still I promised Velvet that I would attempt a civil discourse if she would feature me upon her blog so needs must. The actual reasons behind the fall of the house of Usher involved an unfortunate occurrence in the basement meth lab and rather than face criminal charges I chose to frame it in a rather different manner. As to Miss Lenore...

~*~
Yiota said...
What do you think about the movie coming out called "Raven" and John Cusack as you?"

MR POE: Young woman I am certainly not going to be represented by an actor who has once appeared in a John Hughes film furthermore many have commented (well I have commented) on the rather striking resemblance between myself and Mr. John Depp esq.

~*~
titania86 said...
Were you influenced by the German gothic novellas and dramas by Freidrich Schiller and Heinrich von Kleist? If so, which is your favorite?

MR POE: Dear Titania, I have never read these works of which you speak preferring as I do to reread myself. Furthermore, all my influences stem from my own life and a series of rather questionable real estate decisions.

~*~
AimeeKay said...
Did you ever think that your work would be as influential as it is? Does the fact that it is make you happy?

MR POE: Aimee, happiness tends to elude me fortunately there is laudanum for this but I must say I derive a certain sartorial satisfaction in having so soundly trounced those who said I was but a flash in the pan. I suppose I sound quite small when I tell you that in the small dark corners of my psyche the thought of my critics and my dear mother in law rolling over endlessly in their graves brings a certain pleasure.

~*~
M.A.D. said...
... < suspicious of folks who go around claiming they hear ravens speaking :O

... just sayin'.

MR POE: There are those who say that, to hear voices in an empty room presages the onset of hopeless insanity child but as many of today’s novelists and political candidates will tell you it may also serve as an early sign of genius this is certainly true in my case!

~*~
mbreakfield said...
Mr. Poe, I love your work, especially The Raven.

MR POE: My dear Marlene, it is my pleasure I have little use for money in my present state and so giveaways are my pleasure, though I AM attempting to hawk my shroud on eBay should you be interested in a more tangible reminder of yours truly Edgar Allan.

~*~
tore923 said...
I would love to read your books.

MR POE: Might I recommend the Pit and the Pendulum as a starting place I wrote it on my wedding night :)

~*~
Ruby M said...
Mr. Poe I absolutely love your work, especially The Raven, and I can't wait to read more!

MR POE: Thank you my dear a life without great literature is like being buried alive…which isn’t quite as grim as it sounds, join me?

~*~
marybelle said...
Dear Mr Poe, does it trouble your heart that school children everywhere cringe at your very name?

MR POE: Miss Marybelle that seems a tad excessive cringing at my very name, good lord miss I’m not nearly as fearsome a creature as young miss palin for example and in the minds of the RIGHT sort of children I believe my name glows with a certain red patina, young master King in his youth for example collected and devoured my work most assiduously.

~*~
Sharli said...
If you had the chance, would you write a poem about your own death?

MR POE: Oh I thank you for asking, a little known fact about me is the deep interest I held in a form of poetry known as the limerick please allow an old dead man to share. There once was a writer named Edgar and then he got deader and deader and now he does lie all covered in flies in a grave where the weather don’t spare him.

~*~
Jel ♡ said...
i really want to read his works. i wonder how he got or who his inspirations are for he was able to come up with such great art.

MR POE: I was often inspired in my dark journeys by the memory of my childhood which was later illustrated in the writings of a V.C. Andrews.

~*~
buddyt said...
My question for Mr Poe would be how he likes all the modern horror/ghost stories especially those aimed at YA readers.

MR POE: Are you referring young man to the Twilight books perhaps because if so I must shake my head in derision however I must say that the collected works of Miss Anne Rice prior to her religious conversion have raised some interesting possibilities regarding post rigor mortis sexual activities and do create a certain hopefulness in my decaying heart.

Presume you plan to contact him and pass on the questions via a séance?

MR POE: Allow me to answer this, I refuse to attend any séance in which I am expected to appear alongside Harry Houdini, but might consider a shared venue with Miss Monroe.

~*~
Lieder Madchen said...
My dear Mr. Poe, I have often wondered at your singular ability to invent original ways to kill your creations. Where is it that you get your inspiration?

MR POE: Well I’m a big fan of the works of Wes Craven but in my own lifetime I derived most of my ideas or fantasies if you will during my mother in laws annual holiday visits.

~*~
fredamans said...
I'd like to know.... if you died in the 1849, how are you answering questions in 2011? Is there a Oujia involved?

MR POE: No no my dear, like all the famous dead I will never truly pass into darkness as long as there are those like you who remember my name :)

~*~
Laura's Reviews said...
Do not enter me as I already own the complete works of Poe, but I just had to stop by and say how much I love the author and this poem in particular!

MR POE: Ah I thank you most sincerely Miss Laura and now plan to pen a new work in your honor which I will release next All Hallows Eve.

~*~
Pabkins said...
Why a raven....

MR POE: I had originally planned to use a monitor lizard in the poem but found it lacked the proper air of menace.

~*~
Krysykat said...
I was just like to say Mr. Poe that you are one of my favorite authors, my favorite poem is "Fairy-land".

MR POE: Thank you kindly my dear but perhaps you have not yet read my there once was a girl from Nantucket series of masterpieces so have little with which to compare?

~*~
Carlos Antunes said...
Who have you been haunting since 1850?

MR POE: It varies, in the early years it was a toothsome young lass named Lily Langtry later on I met Miss Monroe, but ever since an unfortunate channeling incident I’ve been stuck with Kurt Cobain’s widow.

~*~
Antonia said...
I love your EDGAR ALLAN POEms!

MR POE: And I my dear love the name Antonia, so very gothic, are you presently seeing anyone? :)

~*~
Rebecca said...
Mr Poe, I very much enjoyed The Raven and the Tell-Tale Heart.

MR POE: Mmmm yes yes Rebecca the Tell Tale Heart in particular is a story I hold close to my decaying breast and thank you for mentioning.

~*~

--~ Book Giveaway courtesy of author ~--

The Wedding Gift
by Kathleen McKenna
17 year old Leeann Worthier is the perfect girl in town - or so she says. George Willets is the heir to a booming petroleum business. When they announce their engagement, George's controlling mother is unimpressed, and Leeann absolutely refuses to live with her mother-in-law. So George gives his new wife a house as a wedding gift.

Thirty years before, the same house hosted a grisly scene: George's uncle and cousins were all slaughtered and his aunt Robina accused of both murder and suicide.

The house is a gorgeous, well-maintained mansion, but has stood empty since the tragedy. It's intimidating, but who is Leeann to turn down a free house? When the ghost of Robina begins to haunt Leeann, she realizes she's made a huge mistake ....

WIN a copy of this book!

Open to all.

Offer ends: November 13, 2011

TO DO: (2-parts)

1. ONE of these:

ADD this book to your Goodreads

or

LIKE this book on amazon.

or

TWEET this: (or click the twitter button on this post)
Giveaway: The Wedding Gift by Kathleen McKenna http://vvb32reads.blogspot.com/2011/10/responses-from-mr-poe.html

2. AND, let me know in comments what you did along with your email (if I don't already have it)

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Contest has ended - winner is here

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

~*~
* image source Nevermore created by the Strangeling

* Mr Poe appearance courtesy of author, Kathleen McKenna

-+0+o+ October Trix-n-Treatz schedule +o+0+-

Giveaway: Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe

W E L C O M E...

You have now entered the first C A R N I V A L E tent!

A special guest is at the podium with this reading...

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 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 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, 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 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!

~*~
THE CROWD errupts in applause.

Thank you, Mr. Poe for joining us today for a reading of your masterpiece, The Raven. Your surprise appearance and reading has put us in the proper mood for this Halloween season. Again thank you!

AND now folks...

Step right up!

For a limited time only, we are offering you a chance to win a copy of Mr. Poe's writings.

Step right up folks!

STEP RIGHT UP and get your copy of Mr. Poe's collection, which of course includes the poem just read today, The Raven.


Due to a previous engagement he will not be able to stay to sign copies of his book but you can leave him a note in comments.

READ more from Edgar here...

--~ Book Giveaway ~--
Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe
Win a copy of this book!

Open to all.

Offer ends: November 13, 2011

TO DO:
Leave a comment or question for the author, Mr. Poe.

AND, leave your email (if I don't already have it)

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

Contest has ended - winner is here

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

~*~
* image source from the Strangeling, Mr Poe
* source poem

-+0+o+ October Trix-n-Treatz schedule +o+0+-

Dark Tales: Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder in the Rue Morgue

G A M E S
F O R
H A L L O W E E N

Here's a game you can try to get in the spooky mood...

Dark Tales:
Edgar Allan Poe`s Murders in the Rue Morgue

Description from Big Fish Games:
A dreadful murder and kidnapping has occurred in the Rue Morgue and only you can solve the dark crime! Follow the clues to find the killer and the missing family. Become the apprentice of the famed C. Auguste Dupin and solve the devious puzzles to find the hidden clues that will lead you to the monstrous murderer.

Based on Edgar Allan Poe’s most acclaimed murder mystery, Dark Tales: Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder in the Rue Morgue is a fantastic Hidden Object game full of suspense and excitement.

PeekInside:



-+0+o+ Discount Giveaway +o+0+-
Dark Tales:
Edgar Allan Poe`s Murders in the Rue Morgue
Regular price: $9.99
Sale: $2.99 with coupon: scary

Open to all.

Offer ends: October 27, 2010, tonight-midnight PST

You can also, test it out for an hour for free here.


~*~
* image source

* The Murders of the Rue Morgue by Edgar Allan Poe - is free online: read it here or listen here

-+0+o+ October Trix-n-Treatz schedule +o+0+-

Dream Within

A Dream Within a Dream
by Edgar Allan Poe
first published in 1849

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

Nevermore

THE RAVEN

by Edgar Allan Poe

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 visiter," 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 visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visiter 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 my sad 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!

*just a little something to get into the Halloween mood

*a great one to read aloud

*source fairy - Nevermore created by my daughter, Sydney, gift for her Father

*source poem