The Raven by Thomas Cantu-Leon

The Raven by Thomas Cantu-Leon
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Storyboard Text

  • Introduction
  • "tap" "tap" "tap"
  • Conflict
  • Rising Action
  • 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.”
  • Climax
  •  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.
  • Falling Action
  •  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. 
  • Resolution
  • “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.”
  •     “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!
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