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" 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... "
The complete poetical works of Edgar Allan Poe, with a selection of his ... - 30. oldal
szerző: Edgar Allan Poe - 1866
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

The Southern literary messenger, 14. kötet

1848 - 780 oldal
...raven, ' Nevermore. "'Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked, upstarting — ' Get thee back into the tempest, and the Night's Plutonian...above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and lake thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.' " And the raven, never flitting, still...

The Southern literary messenger, 11. kötet

1845 - 778 oldal
...shrieked, upstarting — " Gel thee Irack into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no Mack plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken...heart, and take thy form from off my door !" Quoth the raven, "Nevermore." And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid...

The American Whig Review, 1. kötet

1845 - 732 oldal
..." Nevermore." " Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend !" I shrieked, upstarting — " Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian...heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid...

The American Whig Review, 1. kötet

1845 - 688 oldal
...Nevermore." " Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend !" I shrieked, upstarting — " Get thce back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore...heart, and take thy form from off my door !" Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid...

The Literary Emporium, 1-2. kötet

1847 - 434 oldal
...of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door I Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door !" Quoth the raven " Nevermore." And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid...

The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - 1850 - 384 oldal
...' Nevermore."' "'Be that word our sign of parting, Bird or fiend !' I shrieked, upstarting — Get thee back into the tempest And the Night's Plutonian...heart, and Take thy form from off my door !' Quoth the raven ' Nevermore.' " And the raven, never flitting, Still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid...

The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - 1850 - 382 oldal
...' Nevermore.'" "'Be that word our sign of parting, Bird or fiend !' I shrieked, upstarting — Get thee back into the tempest And the Night's Plutonian...heart, and Take thy form from off my door !' Quoth the raven ' Nevermore.' " And the raven, never flitting, Still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid...

The Works of the Late Edgar Allan Poe: The literati

Edgar Allan Poe, Rufus Wilmot Griswold, Nathaniel Parker Willis, James Russell Lowell - 1850 - 642 oldal
...fiend 1" I shrieked, upstarting — " Got thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore I Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken 1 Leave my loneliness unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door ! Take thy beak from out my heart,...

The Irish Quarterly Review, 5. kötet,1. rész

1855 - 724 oldal
...' Never more,' . Be that word oar sign of parting, bird or fiend ! ' I shrieked upstarting— ' Get thee back into the tempest, and the night's Plutonian...heart, and take thy form from off my door ! ' Quoth the Raveu, ' Never more.' And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting, On the pallid...

The United States Magazine and Democratic Review, 28. kötet

1851 - 702 oldal
...Claep a rnre nnd radiant maiden, whom the апце!з name Lenore." Quoth the Raven, " Never more." Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul...! — quit the bust above my door ! Take thy beak (rum out my heurt, and take thy form from off my doori" Quoth the Haven, " Never more." In those elegant...




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