to perceive, in short, that
the difficulty lay in the reconciliation of this monotony with the
exercise of reason on the part of the creature repeating the word. Here,
then, 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suggested itself, but was superseded forthwith by a Raven as equally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 pas