The tales and poems of Edgar Allan Poe, with biogr. essay by J.H. Ingram, Volume 41884 |
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Page 9
... speak of them more fully . Mr. Irving , in his Astoria , mentions the attempt of Captain Jonathan Carver , as being the first ever made to cross the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean ; but in this he appears to be ...
... speak of them more fully . Mr. Irving , in his Astoria , mentions the attempt of Captain Jonathan Carver , as being the first ever made to cross the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean ; but in this he appears to be ...
Page 11
... speaking of Ledyard's undertaking , erroneously calls it " the first attempt to explore the western part of our northern continent . " The next enterprise of moment was the remarkable one of Sir Alexander Mackenzie , which was ...
... speaking of Ledyard's undertaking , erroneously calls it " the first attempt to explore the western part of our northern continent . " The next enterprise of moment was the remarkable one of Sir Alexander Mackenzie , which was ...
Page 14
... speak , as they still dwell in the public memory . Captain B.'s adven- tures have been well related by Mr. Irving . In 1832 , he passed from Fort Osage across the Rocky Mountains , and spent nearly three years in the regions beyond ...
... speak , as they still dwell in the public memory . Captain B.'s adven- tures have been well related by Mr. Irving . In 1832 , he passed from Fort Osage across the Rocky Mountains , and spent nearly three years in the regions beyond ...
Page 28
... speaking of this cavern , Captain Lewis says that it is a hundred and twenty feet wide , twenty feet high , and forty deep , and that the bluffs overhanging it are nearly three hundred feet high . We wish to call attention to the ...
... speaking of this cavern , Captain Lewis says that it is a hundred and twenty feet wide , twenty feet high , and forty deep , and that the bluffs overhanging it are nearly three hundred feet high . We wish to call attention to the ...
Page 104
... speak , think , nor dream of anything else . My host was of a less excitable temperament , and although greatly depressed in spirits , exerted himself to sustain my own . His richly philosophical intellect was not at any time affected ...
... speak , think , nor dream of anything else . My host was of a less excitable temperament , and although greatly depressed in spirits , exerted himself to sustain my own . His richly philosophical intellect was not at any time affected ...
Common terms and phrases
14 King William Agathos amid angels ANNABEL LEE appeared Baldazzar beautiful bells boat breast breath catalepsy Charmion dark death deep dream earth Eiros encampment endeavour Etchings eyes fair fancy feel feet fell flowers friends Goodfellow grave Greely hath heart Heaven Hop-Frog Indians island Israfel J. C. Nimmo King William Street lake Lalage length Lenore light look miles Missouri Monos moon mountain never Nevermore night o'er odour Oinos Old Charley once ourang-outangs party passed PAUL AVRIL Pennifeather PETER ANTHONY MOTTEUX Petite Côte piroque poem Poetic Principle poetical Politian Publications of J. C. Quoth the Raven river Rodman seemed sentiment shadow shore Shuttleworthy sigh Sioux sleep slumber songs sorrow soul sound speak spirit stars stream sweet terror thee thine things thou art thought throne trees truth unto voice wild wind wings words Zaïre
Popular passages
Page 223 - ONCE 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.
Page 232 - 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.
Page 212 - Death has left on her Only the beautiful. "Still, for all slips of hers, One of Eve's family — Wipe those poor lips of hers 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?
Page 234 - The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere — The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year...
Page 241 - And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love, and be loved by me ! I was a child, and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea; But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee — With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
Page 231 - Hear the loud alarum bells — Brazen bells ! What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells ! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright ! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire...
Page 212 - Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly, Not of the stains of her; All that remains of her Now is pure womanly.
Page 230 - Oh, from out the sounding cells, What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! How it swells ! How it dwells On the Future...
Page 307 - ... That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand! Ah, Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land! Israfel And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has the sweetest...
Page 257 - Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines and palaces and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) Resemble nothing that is ours. Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie.