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The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe: By Edgar Allan Poe - Illustrated
Edgar Allan Poe
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2016
The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe: With Memoir... - Primary ...
Edgar Allan Poe,John Henry Ingram
Keine Leseprobe verfügbar - 2013
admiration angels appeared beautiful believe bells bright called character critical dead dear death deep died dream early Edgar Edgar Poe effect Elizabeth Barrett Browning eyes fact fair fancy feel flowers genius give given Graham's Magazine Griswold hand happy hath hear heart Heaven honor hope human Journal knew known lady late leave less letter light literary lived look magazine memory mind moon nature never night once passion Poe's poem poet poet's poetical Politian poor published Raven received remarks rest seemed seen soul sound speak spirit stars story sweet tell thee thine things thou thought tion true truth voice whole wife wind wings writings written York young
Seite 160 - 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 !
Seite 159 - But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore, What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
Seite 147 - The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver ; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river : Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery, Swift to be...
Seite 156 - Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door — Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door: This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer,
Seite 155 - 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 wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Nameless here for evermore.
Seite 181 - And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms, that move fantastically To a discordant melody, While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door A hideous throng rush out forever, And laugh - but smile no more.
Seite 175 - 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...
Seite 137 - Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice.
Seite 177 - IT was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of ANNABEL LEE ; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
Seite 140 - Of her bright face one glance will trace A picture on the brain, And of her voice in echoing hearts A sound must long remain; But memory, such as mine of her, So very much endears, When death is nigh my latest sigh Will not be life's, but hers. I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex The seeming paragon — Her health! and would on earth there stood Some more of such a frame, That life might be all poetry, And weariness a name.