Poetical Works of Edgar Allan PoeG. Routledge & Sons Limited, 1869 - 271页 |
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共有 25 个结果,这是第 1-5 个
第23页
... wife- " the Miss Royster , l to a wealthy man , a Mr. Shelton . Once more aimless , an probably resourceless , the chivalric young poe again sought his native province . Whethe he returned to the home that was home n more is uncertain ...
... wife- " the Miss Royster , l to a wealthy man , a Mr. Shelton . Once more aimless , an probably resourceless , the chivalric young poe again sought his native province . Whethe he returned to the home that was home n more is uncertain ...
第33页
... wife of matchless beaut and loveliness ; her eyes could match that any houri , and her face defy the genius of Canova to imitate ; a temper and dispositio of surpassing sweetness ; besides , she seeme as much devoted to him and his ...
... wife of matchless beaut and loveliness ; her eyes could match that any houri , and her face defy the genius of Canova to imitate ; a temper and dispositio of surpassing sweetness ; besides , she seeme as much devoted to him and his ...
第34页
... wife , kept at a distance cratic reserve . " " Mr. Gowans , known to be one compromising of During January ( 1837 ) Poe contr " the Narrative the Messenger , an it excited , he de was not published til July of the fol did not excite m ...
... wife , kept at a distance cratic reserve . " " Mr. Gowans , known to be one compromising of During January ( 1837 ) Poe contr " the Narrative the Messenger , an it excited , he de was not published til July of the fol did not excite m ...
第35页
... wife , e in constitu- arded at that were in poor ed with them consulted by means , as the pay . He only oken up . Of t opportunity poet led . His was uniformly demeanor , and there , not the or dissipation as inmate , who composition of ...
... wife , e in constitu- arded at that were in poor ed with them consulted by means , as the pay . He only oken up . Of t opportunity poet led . His was uniformly demeanor , and there , not the or dissipation as inmate , who composition of ...
第45页
... wife I was impressed by the singular neatness and the air of refinement in his home . It was in small house in one of the pleasant and silen neighborhoods far from the town , and , thoug slightly and cheaply furnished , everything i it ...
... wife I was impressed by the singular neatness and the air of refinement in his home . It was in small house in one of the pleasant and silen neighborhoods far from the town , and , thoug slightly and cheaply furnished , everything i it ...
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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
热门引用章节
第162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148页 - 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.
第160页 - 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...
第161页 - 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.
第157页 - 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.
第180页 - 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.
第179页 - 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...
第182页 - 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.
第145页 - 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.
第185页 - 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.