The Complete Poems of Edgar Allan PoeFrederick A. Stokes Company, 1895 - 353 pages |
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Page 44
... with mortal pangs The mimes become its food , And the angels sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbrued . Out - out are the lights - out all ! ITS HERO THE CONQUEROR WORM . THE RUIN MOULDERS INTO REST . 44 The Conqueror Worm .
... with mortal pangs The mimes become its food , And the angels sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbrued . Out - out are the lights - out all ! ITS HERO THE CONQUEROR WORM . THE RUIN MOULDERS INTO REST . 44 The Conqueror Worm .
Page 46
... 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 46 The City in the Sea . BRIDAL BALLAD, CITY IN THE SEA, (THE),
... 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 46 The City in the Sea . BRIDAL BALLAD, CITY IN THE SEA, (THE),
Page 50
... rest ; Looking like Lethe , see ! the lake A conscious slumber seems to take , And would not , for the world , awake . All Beauty sleeps ! And lo ! where lies ( Her casement open to the skies ) Irene , with her Destinies ! Oh , lady ...
... rest ; Looking like Lethe , see ! the lake A conscious slumber seems to take , And would not , for the world , awake . All Beauty sleeps ! And lo ! where lies ( Her casement open to the skies ) Irene , with her Destinies ! Oh , lady ...
Page 51
... — The wanton airs , from the tree - top , Laughingly through the lattice drop , — The bodiless airs , a wizard rout , Flit through. THE RUIN MOULDERS INTO REST . AMID THE ROAR OF A SURF - TORMENTED SHORE . The Sleeper . 51.
... — The wanton airs , from the tree - top , Laughingly through the lattice drop , — The bodiless airs , a wizard rout , Flit through. THE RUIN MOULDERS INTO REST . AMID THE ROAR OF A SURF - TORMENTED SHORE . The Sleeper . 51.
Page 65
... rest so composedly Now , in my bed , That any beholder Might fancy me dead , — Might start at beholding me , Thinking me dead . The moaning and groaning- The sighing and sobbing- Are quieted now , With that horrible throbbing At heart ...
... rest so composedly Now , in my bed , That any beholder Might fancy me dead , — Might start at beholding me , Thinking me dead . The moaning and groaning- The sighing and sobbing- Are quieted now , With that horrible throbbing At heart ...
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Common terms and phrases
Al Aaraaf amid angels ANNABEL LEE appeared Auguste Dupin Baldazzar beast beauty beetle bells beneath chamber Chantilly characters dark death's-head door dream Dupin fancy feet fell fire flowers Fort Moultrie fourth story Frenchman gold goole goole-bug hair hand hath head heard heart Heaven human Israfel Jacinta Jupiter Jupiter's knew Lalage left eye Legrand length letter Ligeia light limb look Madame L'Espanaye massa matter means ment mind murder mystery nail negro never Nevermore night o'er observed once ourang-outang paper parchment person Pierre Moreau police Politian Prefect PURLOINED LETTER replied Rue Morgue sailor scarabæus scarcely seemed seen shrill voice shutter skull soul spirit spot star Stephen of Byzantium stereotomy Sullivan's Island suppose sure tell thee thine things thou thought tion tree tulip-tree wild window wing words
Popular passages
Page 21 - For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people — ah, the people — They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone. Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone, — They are neither man nor woman, They are neither brute nor human: They are Ghouls...
Page 4 - This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, " Sir," said I, " or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you " — here I opened wide the door: — Darkness there and nothing more.
Page 16 - 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...
Page 23 - The angels, not half so happy in Heaven, Went envying her and me Yes! that was the reason (as all men know. In this kingdom by the sea) That the wind came out of the cloud by night. Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
Page 25 - 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 ; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir: It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
Page 42 - And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms that move fantastically To a discordant melody; While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door A hideous throng rush out forever, And laugh — but smile no more.
Page 22 - 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.
Page 2 - 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 229 - What song the syrens sang, or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women, though puzzling questions, are not beyond all conjecture.
Page 20 - Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor, Now — now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon.