The complete poetical works of Edgar Allan Poe, with a selection of his sketches and reviews1866 |
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Page 63
... live , and long ! The ecstasies above With thy burning measures suit- Thy grief , thy joy , thy hate , thy love , With the fervour of thy lute- Well may the stars be mute ! Yes , Heaven is thine ; but this Is a world of sweets and sours ...
... live , and long ! The ecstasies above With thy burning measures suit- Thy grief , thy joy , thy hate , thy love , With the fervour of thy lute- Well may the stars be mute ! Yes , Heaven is thine ; but this Is a world of sweets and sours ...
Page 75
... live , for now thou diest ! Politian . Not so , Baldazzar ! Surely I live . Bal . Politian , it doth grieve me To see 66 SCENES FROM POLITIAN . " 75.
... live , for now thou diest ! Politian . Not so , Baldazzar ! Surely I live . Bal . Politian , it doth grieve me To see 66 SCENES FROM POLITIAN . " 75.
Page 82
... live For thee , and in thine eyes - and thou shalt be No more a mourner - but the radiant Joys Shall wait upon thee ... lives ! Pol . And he shall die ! ( exit . ) Lal . ( after a pause . ) And - he - shall - die ! alas ! Castiglione die ...
... live For thee , and in thine eyes - and thou shalt be No more a mourner - but the radiant Joys Shall wait upon thee ... lives ! Pol . And he shall die ! ( exit . ) Lal . ( after a pause . ) And - he - shall - die ! alas ! Castiglione die ...
Page 83
... live yet - yet a little while : ' Tis I who pray for life - I who so late Demanded but to die ! -what sayeth the Count ? Enter Baldazzar . Bal . That knowing no cause of quarrel or of feud Between the Earl Politian and himself , He doth ...
... live yet - yet a little while : ' Tis I who pray for life - I who so late Demanded but to die ! -what sayeth the Count ? Enter Baldazzar . Bal . That knowing no cause of quarrel or of feud Between the Earl Politian and himself , He doth ...
Page 109
... live to know is known And all we seek to keep hath flown --- Let life , then , as the day - flower , fall With the noon - day beauty - which is all . I reach'd my home - my home no more- For all had flown who made it so . I pass'd from ...
... live to know is known And all we seek to keep hath flown --- Let life , then , as the day - flower , fall With the noon - day beauty - which is all . I reach'd my home - my home no more- For all had flown who made it so . I pass'd from ...
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Common terms and phrases
Al Aaraaf amid angels ANNABEL LEE appeared arose Baldazzar Baron beauty became Bedloe bells Berlifitzing breath Broadway Journal character Charlottesville colour countenance dear Dian death deep door dream Earl of Leicester Ellison equerries excitement eyes fancy feel fell Fleet Street flowers gentle gentleman Goodfellow grew happy flowers hast hath head heart Heaven horse hour human Israfel Jacinta lady Lalage length less Lex scripta Ligeia light looked matter means Metzengerstein moon nature never night nose Nosology o'er odour Old Charley once Pennifeather person Pharisee Poe's poem poetical Politian Quoth the Raven replied Ritzner river seemed seen sense sentiment shadow Shuttleworthy smile soul sound speak spirit stars sweet Tarpaulin thee thine things thou art thought tion tone truth voice wall wild wind wing words young Zenobia
Popular passages
Page 18 - Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night. 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 hurl'd — Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world!
Page 21 - Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depth of some divine despair Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes, In looking on the happy Autumn-fields, And thinking of the days that are no more.
Page 24 - 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.
Page 29 - 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!
Page 29 - thing of evil— prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us, by that God we both adore, Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore— Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!
Page 27 - Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, , Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore.
Page 25 - 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.
Page 30 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird, or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Page 42 - 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...
Page 18 - ... clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. "Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, — All that remains of her Now is pure womanly. "Make no deep scrutiny Into her mutiny Rash and undutiful: Past all dishonor, Death has left on her Only the beautiful.