The Works of the Late Edgar Allan Poe: The literati

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第308页 - And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe; For all averred I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow!
第59页 - She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A Maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love : A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
第174页 - In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace — Radiant palace — reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion, It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair! Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow (This — all this — was in the olden Time long ago...
第329页 - So live, that when thy summons comes, to join The innumerable caravan, that moves To that mysterious realm, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.
第185页 - There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone wandering, but not lost.
第323页 - FULL knee-deep lies the winter snow, And the winter winds are wearily sighing : Toll ye the church-bell sad and slow, And tread softly and speak low, For the old year lies a-dying. Old year, you must not die ; You came to us so readily, You lived with us so steadily, Old year, you shall not die.
第293页 - WE watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. Our very hopes belied our fears, Our fears our hopes belied — We thought her dying when she slept And sleeping when she died. For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed — she had Another morn than ours.
第197页 - In the whole composition there should be no word written of which the tendency, direct or indirect, is not to the one preestablished design.
第252页 - He acts upon the principle that if a thing is worth doing at all it is worth doing well: — and the thing that he "does" especially well is the public.
第210页 - And star-dials pointed to morn, As the star-dials hinted of morn, At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn, Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn.