immediately arose the idea of a non-reasoning creature capable of speech, and very naturally, a
parrot, in the first instance, suggested itself, but was superseded forthwith by a Raven as equally
capable of speech, and infinitely more in keeping with the intended tone.
I had now gone so far as the conception of a Raven, the bird of ill-omen, monotonously repeating
the one word 'Nevermore' at the conclusion of each stanza in a poem of melancholy tone, and in
length about one hundred lines. Now, never losing sight of the object- supremeness or perfection
at all points, I asked myself- 'Of all melancholy topics what, according to the universal
understanding of mankind, is the most melancholy?' Death, was the obvious reply. 'And when,'
I said, 'is this most melancholy of topics most poetical?' From what I have already explained at
some length the answer here also is obvious- 'When it most closely allies itself to Beauty: the
death then of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world, and
equally is it beyond doubt that the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover.'
I had now to combine the two ideas of a lover lamenting his deceased mistress and a Raven
continuously repeating the word 'Nevermore.' I had to combine these, bearing in mind my
design of varying at every turn the application of the word repeated, but the only intelligible
mode of such combination is that of imagining the Raven employing the word in answer to the
queries of the lover. And here it was that I saw at once the opportunity afforded for the effect on
which I had been depending, that is to say, the effect of the variation of application. I saw that I
could make the first query propounded by the lover- the first query to which the Raven should
reply 'Nevermore'- that I could make this first query a commonplace one, the second less so, the
third still less, and so on, until at length the lover, startled from his original nonchalance by the
melancholy character of the word itself, by its frequent repetition, and by a consideration of the
ominous reputation of the fowl that uttered it, is at length excited to superstition, and wildly
propounds queries of a far different character- queries whose solution he has passionately at
heart- propounds them half in superstition and half in that species of despair which delights in
self-torture- propounds them not altogether because he believes in the prophetic or demoniac
character of the bird (which reason assures him is merely repeating a lesson learned by rote), but
because he experiences a frenzied pleasure in so modelling his questions as to receive from the
expected 'Nevermore' the most delicious because the most intolerable of sorrows. Perceiving
the opportunity thus afforded me, or, more strictly, thus forced upon me in the progress of the
construction, I first established in my mind the climax or concluding query- that query to which
'Nevermore' should be in the last place an answer- that query in reply to which this word
'Nevermore' should involve the utmost conceivable amount of sorrow and despair.
Here then the poem may be said to have had its beginning- at the end where all works of art
should begin- for it was here at this point of my preconsiderations that I first put pen to paper in
the composition of the stanza:
'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.'
I composed this stanza, at this point, first that, by establishing the climax, I might the better vary
and graduate, as regards seriousness and importance, the preceding queries of the lover, and
secondly, that I might definitely settle the rhythm, the metre, and the length and general
arrangement of the stanza, as well as graduate the stanzas which were to precede, so that none of
them might surpass this in rhythmical effect. Had I been able in the subsequent composition to
construct more vigorous stanzas I should without scruple have purposely enfeebled them so as
not to interfere with the climacteric effect.
And here I may as well say a few words of the versification. My first object (as usual) was
