The Complete Poems of Edgar Allan PoeHoughton Mifflin, 1911 - 304 頁 |
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第 1 到 5 筆結果,共 63 筆
第 9 頁
... 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- THE RAVEN 9.
... 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- THE RAVEN 9.
第 17 頁
... so fearfully- Above the closed and fringèd lid ' Neath which thy slumb'ring soul lies hid , That , o'er the floor and down the wall , Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall ! Oh , lady dear , hast thou no fear ? THE SLEEPER.
... so fearfully- Above the closed and fringèd lid ' Neath which thy slumb'ring soul lies hid , That , o'er the floor and down the wall , Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall ! Oh , lady dear , hast thou no fear ? THE SLEEPER.
第 18 頁
... thou dreaming here ? Sure thou art come o'er far - off seas , A wonder to these garden trees ! Strange is thy pallor ! strange thy dress ! Strange , above all , thy length of tress , And this all solemn silentness ! The lady sleeps ! Oh ...
... thou dreaming here ? Sure thou art come o'er far - off seas , A wonder to these garden trees ! Strange is thy pallor ! strange thy dress ! Strange , above all , thy length of tress , And this all solemn silentness ! The lady sleeps ! Oh ...
第 23 頁
... thou hast heard my hymn ! In joy and wo 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 ...
... thou hast heard my hymn ! In joy and wo 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 25 頁
... thou art not wrong , Israfeli , who despisest 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 ...
... thou art not wrong , Israfeli , who despisest 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 ...
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Aaraaf Al Aaraaf Allan American Whig Review angels Annabel Lee appeared Baldazzar Baltimore beauty bells Broadway Journal Burton's Gentleman's Magazine Castiglione Clemm copy dead death doth dream earth Edgar Edgar Allan Poe edition editor eyes F. W. Thomas flowers Frances Sargent Osgood Graham's Magazine Griswold hath Haunted Palace heart Heaven hope hour Israfel italics lady Lalage Lenore letter Ligeia light lines Lorimer Graham manuscript March melancholy moon never Nevermore night o'er October Omit passion Philadelphia Saturday Museum Poe's hand Poetry of America Poets and Poetry Politian published Raven revised Richmond Examiner Sartain's Union Magazine Say nay SCENES FROM POLITIAN sent shadow sleep song soul Southern Literary Messenger spirit stanza star sweet Tamerlane thee thine things thought thro throne Ulalume Variations verse verso blank voice wild wind wings words written York young
熱門章節
第 196 頁 - 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 78 頁 - It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee ; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by me.
第 24 頁 - 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 頁 - 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 25 頁 - 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 頁 - Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells ! How it dwells On the Future...
第 36 頁 - 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 頁 - 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 270 頁 - 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.
第 31 頁 - On! on!"— but o'er the Past (Dim gulf) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast! For alas! alas! with me The light of life is o'er. "No more — no more...