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Allan angels appeared BALDAZZAR beauty believe bells breath bright called CASTIGLIONE cloth critical dead death deep died door doubt dream Earth Edgar Edited effect eyes fair fancy feel fell fire flowers friends give given hand happy hath hear heard heart Heaven hope JACINTA lady LALAGE late leave less letter light lines literary live look mind moon nature never night Notes o'er once passion Poe's poem poet poetical poetry Point POLITIAN present published reason rest Richmond seemed seen shadow sleep song sorrow soul sound speak spirit stars sure sweet tears thee thine things thou thou art thought true truth voice volume wave wild wind wing write written wrote young
Page 313 - Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start ; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer.
Page 111 - 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 ! " Quoth the raven,
Page 138 - 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. 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!
Page 143 - 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. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea...
Page 159 - Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines and palaces and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) Resemble nothing that is ours. Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie.
Page 129 - Here once, through an alley Titanic Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul- Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul. These were days when my heart was volcanic As the scoriae rivers that roll, As the lavas that restlessly roll Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek In the ultimate climes of the pole, That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek In the realms of the boreal pole.
Page 242 - SCIENCE! true daughter of Old Time thou art! Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes. Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart, Vulture, whose wings are dull realities? How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise, Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies, Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing? Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car? And driven the Hamadryad from the wood 10 To seek a shelter in some happier star?
Page 132 - Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb By the door of a legended tomb; And I said - 'What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?
Page 30 - My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep, As it is lasting, so be deep! Soft may the worms about her creep! Far in the forest, dim and old, For her may some tall vault unfold Some vault that oft hath flung its black And winged panels fluttering back, Triumphant, o'er the crested palls, Of her grand family funerals...