The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, Band 8

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Lawrence & Bullen, 1895
 

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LibraryThing Review

Nutzerbericht  - Kaethe - LibraryThing

I'm reading the story of Pfaall. I had no idea that Poe had written science fiction about a trip to the moon. Amazing. *** Finished Pfaall, which turns out to be an amusing story, as well as ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

LibraryThing Review

Nutzerbericht  - Kaethe - LibraryThing

I'm reading the story of Pfaall. I had no idea that Poe had written science fiction about a trip to the moon. Amazing. *** Finished Pfaall, which turns out to be an amusing story, as well as ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

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Seite 199 - IN THE greenest of our valleys, By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace — Radiant palace — reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion — It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair.
Seite 51 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
Seite 235 - And star-dials pointed to morn, As the star-dials hinted of morn, At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn, Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn.
Seite 18 - And called her good as fair ; For all God ever gave to her She kept with chary care. She kept with care her beauties rare From lovers warm and true ; For her heart was cold to all but gold, And the rich came not to woo : But honored well are charms to sell, If priests the selling do.
Seite 51 - Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days ! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.
Seite 34 - OLD. By the way-side, on a mossy stone Sat a hoary pilgrim sadly musing ; Oft I marked him sitting there alone, All the landscape like a page perusing ; Poor, unknown, By the way-side, on a mossy stone.
Seite 262 - THE thoughts are strange that crowd into my brain, While I look upward to thee. It would seem As if God poured thee from his hollow hand, And hung his bow upon thine awful front ; And spoke in that loud voice, which seemed to him Who dwelt in Patmos for his Saviour's .. sake, The sound of many waters ; and had bade Thy flood to chronicle the ages back, And notch His centuries in the eternal rocks.
Seite 198 - Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise, "But waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!
Seite 269 - Give to it any undue decision — imbue it with any very determinate tone — and you deprive it at once of its ethereal, its ideal, its intrinsic and essential character.
Seite 252 - What song the Syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, though puzzling questions, are not beyond all conjecture. What time the persons of. these ossuaries entered the famous nations of the dead and slept with princes and counsellors might admit a wide solution. But who were the proprietaries of these bones, or what bodies these ashes made up, were a question above...

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