MadridTeacher.com

The Raven - Cloze

Activity set by: Elisabet Kuszek




On Youtube with Vincent Price. Also: Christopher Lee, James Earl Jones.
Translation to Spanish: Traduccion de El Cuervo
"The Raven" is a poem by Edgar Allan Poe first published in 1845.
It is in the Public Domain.
Voice of Chris Goringe (Librivox.org).

First, do these vocabulary activities: Verbs, Nouns and Other. For this activity, listen to the recordings if necessary: MP3 (Chris Goringe). Fill in all the gaps with the missing words, then press "Check" to check your answers. Use the "Hint" button to get a free letter if an answer is giving you trouble. You can also click on the "[?]" button to get a clue. Click the this button again for another letter. You can also click on "[?]" for a different hint. Note that you will lose points if you ask for hints or clues!

Primero, haz la actividad de vocabulario. Escucha la grabación si es necesario. Rellena los espacios en blanco con las palabras que faltan. Haz click en "Check" para comprobar tus aciertos. Si te resulta difícil la respuesta utiliza el botón "Hint" y te revelará una letra de la casilla en la que te encuentres, puedes clickear varias veces en "Hint" y te dará cada vez una letra más de la palabra. Para obtener ayuda también puedes clickear en el botón "[?]" y te dará una pista. Perderás puntos con las pistas.


Listen to Chris Goringe:

       
   adore      aptly      beguiling      bleak      blessed      bosom      burden      bust      clasp      clasp      craven      dared      decorum      denser      discourse      divining      dreary      ember      engaged      entreating      faintly      flitting      flown      flung      forgiveness      gloated      gloating      haunted      hesitating      lattice      lifted      maiden      muttered      napping      obeisance      peering      perched      perched      prophet      prophet      quaint      rapping      relevancy      respite      respite      rustling      scarce      seeming      shore      shrieked      somewhat      sorrow      stately      still      stillness      streaming      thereat      thrilled      tinkled      token      tossed      undaunted      unmerciful      uttered      utters      vainly      velvet      wheeled      whispered      yore   
The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight , while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a and curious volume of forgotten lore —
While I nodded, nearly , suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently at my chamber door.
"Tis some visitor," I , "tapping at my chamber door —
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the December,
And each separate dying wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; — I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of for the lost Lenore —
For the rare and radiant whom the angels name Lenore —
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain of each purple curtain
me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visitor entrance at my chamber door —
Some late visitor entrance at my chamber door; —
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your I implore;
But the fact is I was , and so gently you came rapping,
And so you came tapping — tapping at my chamber door,
That I was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door: —
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness , long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the word, "Lenore!"
This I , 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, louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window ;
Let me see, then, what 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 the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least made he; not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord and lady, above my chamber door—
upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched and sat and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no ,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian !"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning — little bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was with seeing bird above his chamber door —
Bird or beast upon the sculptured above his chamber door,
With such a name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid , spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he ; not a feather then he fluttered —
Till I scarcely more than , "Other friends have flown before —
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one bore —
Till the dirges of his Hope the melancholy bore
Of 'Never — nevermore.'"

But the Raven still all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my 's core;
This and more I sat , with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew , perfumed from an unseen censer,
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee
and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"!" said I, "thing of evil! — still, if bird or devil! —
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all , on this desert land enchanted —
On this home by Horror — tell me truly, I implore —
Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"!" said I, "thing of evil! — still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us — by that God we both
Tell this soul with laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall a saintly maiden whom the angels name Lenore —
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 , upstarting—
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian !
Leave no black plume as a of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! — quit the 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 , still is sitting — still is sitting
On the pallid of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the of a Demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be — nevermore!