The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe: With Memoir

Első borító
Homewood Publishing Company, 1902 - 256 oldal
 

Mit mondanak mások - Írjon ismertetőt

Nem találtunk ismertetőket a szokott helyeken.

Tartalomjegyzék

I
5
II
113
III
125
IV
153
V
155
VI
161
VII
163
IX
164
XXIV
188
XXV
189
XXVII
191
XXVIII
192
XXIX
193
XXXI
195
XXXII
199
XXXIII
200

X
166
XI
168
XII
169
XIII
173
XIV
176
XV
177
XVI
179
XVIII
181
XIX
182
XXI
183
XXII
184
XXIII
186
XXXIV
201
XXXV
225
XXXVI
226
XXXVII
240
XXXIX
248
XL
249
XLII
250
XLIII
252
XLV
253
XLVI
254
XLVII
255
Copyright

Más kiadások - Összes megtekintése

Gyakori szavak és kifejezések

Népszerű szakaszok

160. oldal - 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 !
159. oldal - 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.
147. oldal - The bleak wind of March Made her tremble and shiver ; But not the dark arch, Or the black flowing river : Mad from life's history, Glad to death's mystery, Swift to be...
156. oldal - Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door — Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door: This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer,
155. oldal - Only this and nothing more." 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.
181. oldal - 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.
175. oldal - Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows...
137. oldal - Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice.
177. oldal - 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.
140. oldal - Of her bright face one glance will trace A picture on the brain, And of her voice in echoing hearts A sound must long remain; But memory, such as mine of her, So very much endears, When death is nigh my latest sigh Will not be life's, but hers. I fill this cup to one made up Of loveliness alone, A woman, of her gentle sex The seeming paragon — Her health! and would on earth there stood Some more of such a frame, That life might be all poetry, And weariness a name.

Bibliográfiai információk