The Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe, with Original Memoir. Illustrated by F. R. Pickersgill, J. Tenniel, Birket Foster, Etc1866 |
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Page viii
... spirit doth dwell " Whose heart - strings are a lute . " P. DUGGAN W. J. Linton 43 TO ZANTE . Fair isle , that from the fairest of all flowers , Thy gentlest of all gentle names dost take ! BIRKET FOSTER . . E. Evans 47 THE HAUNTED ...
... spirit doth dwell " Whose heart - strings are a lute . " P. DUGGAN W. J. Linton 43 TO ZANTE . Fair isle , that from the fairest of all flowers , Thy gentlest of all gentle names dost take ! BIRKET FOSTER . . E. Evans 47 THE HAUNTED ...
Page xxii
... spirit , accepted the charge , and produced from the papers entrusted to him , the best biography of the strange being that has been published , which was appended to the collection of his works in four volumes issued in New York . June ...
... spirit , accepted the charge , and produced from the papers entrusted to him , the best biography of the strange being that has been published , which was appended to the collection of his works in four volumes issued in New York . June ...
Page 8
Edgar Allan Poe. LENORE . Ан , broken is the golden bowl ! the spirit flown for ever ! Let the bell toll ! -a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river And , Guy De Vere , hast thou no tear ? -- weep now or never more ! See ! on yon drear ...
Edgar Allan Poe. LENORE . Ан , broken is the golden bowl ! the spirit flown for ever ! Let the bell toll ! -a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river And , Guy De Vere , hast thou no tear ? -- weep now or never more ! See ! on yon drear ...
Page 27
... spirit free . My mother - my own mother , who died early , Was but the mother of myself ; but you Are mother to the one I loved so dearly , And thus are dearer than the mother I knew By that infinity with which my wife Was dearer to my ...
... spirit free . My mother - my own mother , who died early , Was but the mother of myself ; but you Are mother to the one I loved so dearly , And thus are dearer than the mother I knew By that infinity with which my wife Was dearer to my ...
Page 34
... Keeping time , time , time , In a sort of Runic rhyme , To the pean of the bells- In a sort of Runic rhyme , To the throbbing. Of the bells : Keeping time , time , time , IN heaven a spirit doth dwell " Whose heart -. 34 THE BELLS .
... Keeping time , time , time , In a sort of Runic rhyme , To the pean of the bells- In a sort of Runic rhyme , To the throbbing. Of the bells : Keeping time , time , time , IN heaven a spirit doth dwell " Whose heart -. 34 THE BELLS .
Other editions - View all
The Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe, with Orig. Memoir. New Illustr. Ed Edgar Allan Poe No preview available - 2016 |
The Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe, with Orig. Memoir. New Illustr. Ed Edgar Allan Poe No preview available - 2015 |
Common terms and phrases
A. M. MADOT Aaraaf Al Aaraaf ALESSANDRA amid ANNABEL LEE Auber BALDAZZAR beautiful ANNABEL LEE bells bird BIRKET FOSTER bride bright Broadway Journal bust CASTIGLIONE chamber door Cooper dear Dian death didst died dim lake dost doth dream dwell Edgar Allan Poe Evans F. R. PICKERSGILL fair feel fell flowers gentle ghoul-haunted woodland glory golden happy hath hear heart heaven Hope Israfel JACINTA JASPER CROPSEY JOHN TENNIEL LALAGE leave light literary lived lone magazine maiden melody moon never Nevermore night o'er PERCIVAL SKELTON poems poet POLITIAN quarrel Quoth the Raven red levin Richmond roll Runic rhyme SCENES FROM POLITIAN seraph sere shadow sigh skies smiled sorrow soul spirit stars strange sweet tarn of Auber thee things thou art thro throne ULALUME unto upturn'd faces voice W. J. Linton wave wild wind wing woodland of Weir young
Popular passages
Page 1 - 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 4 - Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he; not a...
Page 7 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, . And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Page 4 - 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.
Page 2 - 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 39 - 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 39 - 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 58 - By a route obscure and lonely, Haunted by ill angels only, Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, On a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands but newly From an ultimate dim Thule — From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, Out of SPACE — out of TIME.
Page 6 - 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! 100 Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Page 31 - With a desperate desire, And a resolute endeavor, Now — now to sit or never, By the side of the pale-faced moon. Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar!