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Aaraaf afterwards Allan angels Annabel Lee Annie appeared Baldazzar Baltimore beauty bells Broadway Journal Burton's Gentleman's Magazine Castiglione Clemm copy dead death doth dream early earth Edgar Edgar Allan Poe edition editor eyes F. W. Thomas flowers Frances Sargent Osgood friends Graham's Magazine Griswold hath Haunted Palace heart Heaven hope hour Israfel Jacinta Lalage Lenore letter Ligeia light lines Lorimer Graham manuscript March melancholy moon never Nevermore night Note o'er October Omit passion Philadelphia Saturday Museum Poe wrote Poe's poems poet Poetic Principle Politian published Raven revised Richmond Examiner Sarah Helen Whitman Sartain's Union Magazine say nay sent shadow sleep song Sonnet soul Southern Literary Messenger spirit stanza star sweet Tamerlane thee thine things thou art thought thro throne Ulalume Variations verses Virginia voice Whig wild wind wing words written York young
第194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22页 - In Heaven a spirit doth dwell "Whose heart-strings are a lute"; None sing so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy stars (so legends tell), Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice, all mute.
第63页 - HEAR the sledges with the bells, Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
第23页 - An unimpassioned song; To thee the laurels belong, Best bard, because the wisest! Merrily live, and long! The ecstasies above With thy burning measures suit — Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love, With the fervour of thy lute — Well may the stars be mute!
第63页 - Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells ! How it dwells On the Future...
第34页 - But see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude! It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs The mimes become its food, And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued.
第84页 - 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?
第268页 - ROMANCE, who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet Hath been — a most familiar bird — Taught me my alphabet to say — To lisp my very earliest word While in the wild wood I did lie, A child — with a most knowing eye. Of late, eternal Condor years So shake the very Heaven on high With tumult as they thunder by, I have no time for idle cares Through gazing on the unquiet sky.