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Aaraaf acquaintance admiration afterwards Al Aaraaf American Annabel Lee appeared April August Baltimore beautiful bells Boston Broadway Journal Clemm copy criticism death December died dreams Edgar Allan Poe Edgar Poe edition editor essay exquisite eyes February Fordham French genius gentleman Godey's Godey's Lady's Book Gold-Bug Graham's Magazine Griswold heart House of Usher imagination Ingram January John July June lady Lenore letter Ligeia living Lowell March melody memory Mesmeric Revelation mind Miss months mother never night November October Osgood passion Poe's poems poet poet's poetic poetry Professor prose published Raven remarkable Richmond Rufus Wilmot Griswold Saturday Museum seemed signed E. P. soul Southern Literary Messenger spirit stanzas story tale Thomas tion Ulalume University of Virginia verse volume West Point Whitman wife William Willis words write written York young
358. oldal - But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we — Of many far wiser than we — And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE...
218. oldal - 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.
358. oldal - 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.
381. 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.
358. oldal - For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee : And so , all the night-tide , I lie down by the side Of my darling — my darling — my life and my bride, In her sepulchre there by the sea — In her tomb by the sounding sea.
384. oldal - 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.
382. oldal - Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride — For her the fair and debonair that now so lowly lies, The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes — The life still there, upon her hair — the death upon her eyes.
131. oldal - Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence — whether much that is glorious — whether all that is profound — does not spring from disease of thought — from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect.