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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... "
Studies in American and British Literature - 157. oldal
szerző: Inez Nellie Canfield McFee - 1905 - 557 oldal
Teljes nézet - Információ erről a könyvről

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...never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas jiut alrcve my chamber door ; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon...

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 American Whig Review, 1. kötet

1845 - 732 oldal
...raven, " Nevermore." " Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend !" I shrieked, upstarting — " r ; And his eyes On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door ; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon...

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...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...

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...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...

The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - 1850 - 380 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...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...

The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - 1850 - 384 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...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...

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
...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...from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door 1* Quoth the raven " Nevermore." Sixteenth — concerns the rhythm. Outis's is iambic — mine the...

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

1855 - 724 oldal
...Raven, ' 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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