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Seite 21 - For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people — ah, the people — They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone. Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone, — They are neither man nor woman, They are neither brute nor human: They are Ghouls...
Seite 4 - This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, " Sir," said I, " or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you " — here I opened wide the door: — Darkness there and nothing more.
Seite 16 - 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 23 - The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me Yes! that was the reason (as all men know. In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night. Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
Seite 25 - 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 ; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir: It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
Seite 42 - 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 22 - 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 2 - 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 229 - What song the syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, though puzzling questions, are not beyond all conjecture.
Seite 20 - Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor, Now — now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon.