The poetical works of Edgar Allan Poe with a notice by J. Hannay1853 |
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Page 26
... sighs- She revels in a region of sighs : She has seen that the tears are not dry on 26 ULALUME .
... sighs- She revels in a region of sighs : She has seen that the tears are not dry on 26 ULALUME .
Page 42
... sigh for sigh , And all day long Shines , bright and strong , Astarté within the sky , While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye— While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye . ANNABEL LEE . I. It was many and many ...
... sigh for sigh , And all day long Shines , bright and strong , Astarté within the sky , While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye— While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye . ANNABEL LEE . I. It was many and many ...
Page 58
... sigh As they pass the wanderer by , — White - robed forms of friends long given , In agony , to the Earth- and Heaven . IV . For the heart whose woes are legion " Tis a peaceful , soothing region ; For the spirit that walks in shadow ...
... sigh As they pass the wanderer by , — White - robed forms of friends long given , In agony , to the Earth- and Heaven . IV . For the heart whose woes are legion " Tis a peaceful , soothing region ; For the spirit that walks in shadow ...
Page 68
... -I feel I am better at length . III . And I rest so composedly , Now , in my bed , That any beholder Might fancy me dead- Might start at beholding me , Thinking me dead . IV . The moaning and groaning , The sighing and 68 FOR ANNIE.
... -I feel I am better at length . III . And I rest so composedly , Now , in my bed , That any beholder Might fancy me dead- Might start at beholding me , Thinking me dead . IV . The moaning and groaning , The sighing and 68 FOR ANNIE.
Page 69
Edgar Allan Poe. IV . The moaning and groaning , The sighing and sobbing , Are quieted now , With that horrible throbbing At heart - ah , that horrible , Horrible throbbing ! V. The sickness , the nausea , The pitiless pain , Have ceased ...
Edgar Allan Poe. IV . The moaning and groaning , The sighing and sobbing , Are quieted now , With that horrible throbbing At heart - ah , that horrible , Horrible throbbing ! V. The sickness , the nausea , The pitiless pain , Have ceased ...
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Common terms and phrases
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
Popular passages
Page 6 - 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!
Page 3 - 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
Page 40 - 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...
Page 7 - 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!
Page 5 - 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!
Page 7 - 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!
Page 5 - 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.
Page 6 - 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!
Page xxxii - 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.
Page xxxii - 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.