Poetical Works of Edgar Allan PoeG. Routledge & Sons Limited, 1869 - 271 ページ |
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... door , was a broad bank of greenest turf . The neighboring beds of mignonette and heliotrope , and the pleasant shade above , made this a favorite seat . Ris- ing at four o'clock in the morning , for a walk to the magnificent aqueduct ...
... door , was a broad bank of greenest turf . The neighboring beds of mignonette and heliotrope , and the pleasant shade above , made this a favorite seat . Ris- ing at four o'clock in the morning , for a walk to the magnificent aqueduct ...
116 ページ
... door " He seemed , except gated his will and engro the memory of some co able poem of The Raven than has been suppose intimate with him , a re history . He was that b 666 Followed fast and follow unhappy master den bore- Till the dirges ...
... door " He seemed , except gated his will and engro the memory of some co able poem of The Raven than has been suppose intimate with him , a re history . He was that b 666 Followed fast and follow unhappy master den bore- Till the dirges ...
149 ページ
... Door lips of hers , ammily , ⚫tresses m the comb , urn tresses ; Where was her home . Who was her father ? Who was her mother ? Had she a sister ? Had she a brother ? Or was there a dearer one Still , and a nearer one Yet , than all ...
... Door lips of hers , ammily , ⚫tresses m the comb , urn tresses ; Where was her home . Who was her father ? Who was her mother ? Had she a sister ? Had she a brother ? Or was there a dearer one Still , and a nearer one Yet , than all ...
160 ページ
... door . " Tis some visitor my chamber do Onl Ah , distinctly I re December , And each separate ghost upon the Eagerly I wished t sought to borr From my books sur the lost Lenore For the rare and angels name L Na 11 POEMS . THE RAVEN ...
... door . " Tis some visitor my chamber do Onl Ah , distinctly I re December , And each separate ghost upon the Eagerly I wished t sought to borr From my books sur the lost Lenore For the rare and angels name L Na 11 POEMS . THE RAVEN ...
161 ページ
... 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 ...
... 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 ...
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admired Al Aaraaf alluded angels ANNABEL LEE appeared beautiful bells bird Broadway Journal chamber door character Clemm Conchology critical critique dear death dream Edgar Allan Poe Edgar Poe Elizabeth Barrett Browning excitement eyes fair fame fancy feel flowers Fordham genius gentle Graham's Graham's Magazine Gris Griswold hath Haunted Palace heart Heaven honor hope Journal knew lady Lalage Lenore letter Ligeia light literary magazine memory ment Mesmeric Revelations Messenger mind moon mother N. P. Willis nature never Nevermore night o'er Pabodie Passion Poe's poem poet poet's Poetic Principle poetical poetry Politian poor published Raven remarks Richmond seemed smile song soul speak spirit stars story strange sweet thee thine thing thou tion true truth Ulalume unto voice Whitman wife Willis wonderful words writings written
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162 ページ - 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 !
148 ページ - Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
160 ページ - 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...
161 ページ - 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.
157 ページ - OXCE 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.
180 ページ - Hear the tolling of the bells, Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a .groan.
179 ページ - Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells Of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells In the clamor...
182 ページ - A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea.
145 ページ - Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home? Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other? Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun! O, it was pitiful! Near a whole city full, Home she had none.
185 ページ - And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king.