Poetical Works of Edgar Allan PoeG. Routledge & Sons Limited, 1869 - 271 pages |
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Page 51
... look at it in the tw light . " And then , alluding to Poe's story " Mesmeric Revelations , " which some Englis journals accepted as a faithful record of fact the Poetess resumes : - " Then there is a tal going the rounds of the ...
... look at it in the tw light . " And then , alluding to Poe's story " Mesmeric Revelations , " which some Englis journals accepted as a faithful record of fact the Poetess resumes : - " Then there is a tal going the rounds of the ...
Page 65
... look upon the charm- ing picture of the cruelly belibeled poet , and his diminutive ménage , as portrayed by Mrs. Osgood . " It was in his own simple yet poeti- cal home , " she remarks , " that to me the char- acter of Edgar Poe ...
... look upon the charm- ing picture of the cruelly belibeled poet , and his diminutive ménage , as portrayed by Mrs. Osgood . " It was in his own simple yet poeti- cal home , " she remarks , " that to me the char- acter of Edgar Poe ...
Page 68
... look . One felt that she was almost a disrobed spirit , and when she coughed it was made certain that she was rapidly passing away . The mother seemed hale and strong , and appeared to be a sort of universal Provi- dence for her strange ...
... look . One felt that she was almost a disrobed spirit , and when she coughed it was made certain that she was rapidly passing away . The mother seemed hale and strong , and appeared to be a sort of universal Provi- dence for her strange ...
Page 102
... is phrases very well t truth shining out f to look devilish . M the worth of the ma had no sympathies has allowed old pre steal , insensibly pe his picture . They congenial , if not E. d few or no be suggested m literary art 02 MEMOIR .
... is phrases very well t truth shining out f to look devilish . M the worth of the ma had no sympathies has allowed old pre steal , insensibly pe his picture . They congenial , if not E. d few or no be suggested m literary art 02 MEMOIR .
Page 103
... look devilish . Mr. Griswold does not feel the worth of the man he has undervalued - he had no sympathies in common with him , and has allowed old prejudices and old enmities to steal , insensibly perhaps , into the coloring of his ...
... look devilish . Mr. Griswold does not feel the worth of the man he has undervalued - he had no sympathies in common with him , and has allowed old prejudices and old enmities to steal , insensibly perhaps , into the coloring of his ...
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Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe Edgar Allan Poe,Nathaniel Parker Willis,John Henry Ingram No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
admired Al Aaraaf alluded angels ANNABEL LEE appeared beautiful bells bird Broadway Journal chamber door character Clemm Conchology critical critique dear death dream Edgar Allan Poe Edgar Poe Elizabeth Barrett Browning excitement eyes fair fame fancy feel flowers Fordham genius gentle Graham's Graham's Magazine Gris Griswold hath Haunted Palace heart Heaven honor hope Journal knew lady Lalage Lenore letter Ligeia light literary magazine memory ment Mesmeric Revelations Messenger mind moon mother N. P. Willis nature never Nevermore night o'er Pabodie Passion Poe's poem poet poet's Poetic Principle poetical poetry Politian poor published Raven remarks Richmond seemed smile song soul speak spirit stars story strange sweet thee thine thing thou tion true truth Ulalume unto voice Whitman wife Willis wonderful words writings written
Popular passages
Page 162 - Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Prophet!" said I, "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 148 - Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Page 160 - 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?" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore...
Page 161 - 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 157 - OXCE 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 180 - Hear the tolling of the bells, Iron bells! What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night How we shiver with affright At the melancholy menace of their tone! For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a .groan.
Page 179 - 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! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells Of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells In the clamor...
Page 182 - A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful ANNABEL LEE ; So that her highborn kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulchre In this kingdom by the sea.
Page 145 - Oozing so clammily. Loop up her tresses Escaped from the comb, Her fair auburn tresses; Whilst wonderment guesses Where was her home? Who was her father? Who was her mother? Had she a sister? Had she a brother? Or was there a dearer one Still, and a nearer one Yet, than all other? Alas for the rarity Of Christian charity Under the sun! O, it was pitiful! Near a whole city full, Home she had none.
Page 185 - And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king.