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angels appeared beauty bells breath bright Broadway Journal called dark dead death deep died door doth dream Earth Editor's Note fair fall fancy feel fell fire flowers follows give given glory gone Graham's Magazine hand happy hath hear heart Heaven hope hour known lake Lalage leave Lenore less light Line live lone look Magazine maiden March melody mind moon mountain never night o'er once Page pass passion Poe's poem poet poetry Politian Raven rest seen shadow Silence sleep song soul sound Southern Literary Messenger speak spirit stanza star strange sweet Tamerlane tears tell thee thine things thou thou art thought thro throne true Variations voice volume wave wild wind wing written young
Seite 99 - 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.
Seite 121 - HEAR the sledges with the bells — Silver bells ! What a world of merriment their melody foretells ! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night ! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Seite 222 - 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 118 - 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 49 - In Heaven a spirit doth dwell "Whose heart-strings are a lute"; None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy stars (so legends tell), Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice, all mute.
Seite 102 - The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere — The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year...
Seite 94 - 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.
Seite 116 - And I lie so composedly, Now, in my bed, (Knowing her love), That you fancy me dead And I rest so contentedly, Now, in my bed (With her love at my breast), That you fancy me dead That you shudder to look at me, Thinking me dead...
Seite 50 - Up many and many a marvellous shrine Whose wreathed friezes intertwine The viol, the violet, and the vine. Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. So blend the turrets and shadows there That all seem pendulous in air, While from a proud tower in the town Death looks gigantically down.