The Poetical Works ...: With Memoir and VindicationW. J. Widdleton, 1876 - 190 pages |
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Page 4
... leaving the university , he remained with the Allans , and in 1829 published his first book , “ Al Aaraaf , Tamerlane , and Minor Poems . " It had no great success , and Poe looked about him for a career unconnected with literature . He ...
... leaving the university , he remained with the Allans , and in 1829 published his first book , “ Al Aaraaf , Tamerlane , and Minor Poems . " It had no great success , and Poe looked about him for a career unconnected with literature . He ...
Page 41
... leave me , as my Hopes have flown before , " Then the bird said “ Nevermore . ” 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 ...
... leave me , as my Hopes have flown before , " Then the bird said “ Nevermore . ” 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 ...
Page 43
... 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 THE RAVEN . 43.
... 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 THE RAVEN . 43.
Page 45
... Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride For her , the fair and debonair , that now so lowly lies , The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes The life still there , upon her hair - the death upon ...
... Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride For her , the fair and debonair , that now so lowly lies , The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes The life still there , upon her hair - the death upon ...
Page 53
... leaves they were crisped and sere The leaves they were withering and sere night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year ; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber , ULALUME . 53.
... leaves they were crisped and sere The leaves they were withering and sere night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year ; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber , ULALUME . 53.
Common terms and phrases
Al Aaraaf Aless amid angels ANNABEL LEE art not gone Auber Baldazzar beauty bells biographer bird breast breath bright Broadway Journal Castiglione Clemm dead death deep didst door dost dream Earl of Leicester Earth Edgar Edgar Poe fair fancy feel flowers gentle glory golden Graham Graham's Magazine Griswold happy hath HAUNTED PALACE hear heart Heaven hope Israfel Jacinta lady lake Lalage Lenore letter Ligeia light literary lone love thee Magazine maiden melody moon never Nevermore night o'er odors Pabodie Poe's poem poet Poetic Principle poetical poetry Politian Quoth the Raven Raven Say nay shadow sigh skies sleep smile song sorrow soul sound speak spirit stars statement sweet tears things thou art thou hast thro throne tonian truth Ulalume unto Virginia Clemm voice wild wilt wind wing words writes
Popular passages
Page 41 - 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.
Page 42 - Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sent thee Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!
Page 43 - 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 63 - And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me. I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
Page 180 - One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair ! Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her 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...
Page 44 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, . And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Page 169 - That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time. For...
Page 42 - This I sat engaged in guessing, But no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now Burned into my bosom's core ; This and more I sat divining, With my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining That the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining With the lamplight gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore I Then methought the air grew denser, Perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls Tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Page 40 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling. By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Page 69 - On! on!"— but o'er the Past (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast! For, alas! alas! with me The light of Life is o'er! "No more — no more...