The poetical works of Edgar Allan Poe with a notice by J. Hannay1853 |
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共有 12 个结果,这是第 1-5 个
第11页
... hast thou no tear ? -weep now or never more ! See ! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love , Lenore ! Come ! let the burial rite be read the funeral. Ан , broken is the golden bowl ! the spirit flown for HEAR the sledges with the ...
... hast thou no tear ? -weep now or never more ! See ! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love , Lenore ! Come ! let the burial rite be read the funeral. Ан , broken is the golden bowl ! the spirit flown for HEAR the sledges with the ...
第22页
... hast heard my hymn ! In joy and woe - in good and ill — Mother of God , be with me still ! When the Hours flew brightly by , And not a cloud obscured the sky , My soul , lest it should truant be , Thy grace did guide to thine and thee ...
... hast heard my hymn ! In joy and woe - in good and ill — Mother of God , be with me still ! When the Hours flew brightly by , And not a cloud obscured the sky , My soul , lest it should truant be , Thy grace did guide to thine and thee ...
第49页
... Oh , lady dear ! hast thou no fear ? Why and what art thou dreaming here ? Sure thou art come o'er far - off seas , A wonder to these garden trees ! E Strange is thy pallor ! strange thy dress ! Strange THE SLEEPER . 49.
... Oh , lady dear ! hast thou no fear ? Why and what art thou dreaming here ? Sure thou art come o'er far - off seas , A wonder to these garden trees ! E Strange is thy pallor ! strange thy dress ! Strange THE SLEEPER . 49.
第73页
... production , and is the least meritorious work Poe has left.-ED. Aless . Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing. SCENES FROM " POLITIAN : " * The gardens of a palace - Moonlight . LALAGE and. SCENES FROM POLITIAN 66.
... production , and is the least meritorious work Poe has left.-ED. Aless . Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing. SCENES FROM " POLITIAN : " * The gardens of a palace - Moonlight . LALAGE and. SCENES FROM POLITIAN 66.
第74页
... hast indulged Did I sigh ? ( Sighing . ) Thou art not well . Thou Too much of late , and I am vexed to see it . Late hours and wine , Castiglione , -these Will ruin thee ! Thou art already altered— Thy looks are haggard : nothing so ...
... hast indulged Did I sigh ? ( Sighing . ) Thou art not well . Thou Too much of late , and I am vexed to see it . Late hours and wine , Castiglione , -these Will ruin thee ! Thou art already altered— Thy looks are haggard : nothing so ...
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常见术语和短语
Al Aaraaf Aless amid angels ANNABEL LEE Auber Baldazzar beautiful bells breath BRIDAL BALLAD bright Castiglione chamber door dead death deep dost dream dwell Earl of Leicester Earth Edgar EDGAR ALLAN POE Edgar Poe Eldorado Eulalie F. W. HULME fair feel fell flowers garden genius glory golden happy HARRISON WEIR hath hear heart heaven holy hope Ianthe Israfel Jacinta JAMES GODWIN JAMES HANNAY lake Lalage Lenore Ligeia light lone love thee maiden melancholy melody moon never Nevermore night o'er passion pause Poe's poems poet poetry Politian Quoth the Raven Rome seraph shadow sigh Silence skies sleep smile solemn sorrow soul speak spirit star strange sure sweet tears thine eyes things thou art thou hast throne Ulalume unto voice wave Weir wild wilt wind wing words
热门引用章节
第6页 - Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls 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!
第3页 - 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
第40页 - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we— Of many far wiser than we— And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...
第7页 - 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!
第5页 - 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 lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining, with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch!
第7页 - 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!
第5页 - But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore, What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore.
第6页 - 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!
第xxxii页 - Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore, Nameless here for evermore.
第xxxii页 - And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me— filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, "* Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door: This it is and nothing more.