The poetical works of Edgar Allan Poe, with a prefatory notice, by J. Skipsey1885 - 288 pages |
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Page 31
... feeling that has its roots in the very bottom of the poet's soul ? The truth and depth of those feelings , I contend , cannot be doubted ; no more than I can doubt that it was from his rare ability to give an adequate expression to such ...
... feeling that has its roots in the very bottom of the poet's soul ? The truth and depth of those feelings , I contend , cannot be doubted ; no more than I can doubt that it was from his rare ability to give an adequate expression to such ...
Page 32
... feel or has felt - as the perfume of the rose can only be known to one who has the sense of smelling , and has smelt ... feeling - or the effect , as Poe himself would have put it - desired to be produced , no such feeling or effect were ...
... feel or has felt - as the perfume of the rose can only be known to one who has the sense of smelling , and has smelt ... feeling - or the effect , as Poe himself would have put it - desired to be produced , no such feeling or effect were ...
Page 36
... feels , at whatever cost of precious time and vital force , he must either do this or be prepared to listen in silence , while some Master Holofernes , who has found something in it to fit exactly his own hobby - horse , extols it as ...
... feels , at whatever cost of precious time and vital force , he must either do this or be prepared to listen in silence , while some Master Holofernes , who has found something in it to fit exactly his own hobby - horse , extols it as ...
Page 52
... feel no The sweet Lenore hath " gone before , " with Hope , that flew beside , Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride- [ lies , For her , the fair and débonnaire , that now so lowly The life upon her yellow ...
... feel no The sweet Lenore hath " gone before , " with Hope , that flew beside , Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride- [ lies , For her , the fair and débonnaire , that now so lowly The life upon her yellow ...
Page 54
... feel ye now - I feel ye in your strength- O spells more sure than e'er Judæan king Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane ! O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee Ever drew from out the quiet stars ! Here , where a hero fell , a column ...
... feel ye now - I feel ye in your strength- O spells more sure than e'er Judæan king Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane ! O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee Ever drew from out the quiet stars ! Here , where a hero fell , a column ...
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The Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe, with a Prefatory Notice, by J. Skipsey Edgar Allan Poe No preview available - 2016 |
Common terms and phrases
Al Aaraaf ALESSANDRA amid angels ANNABEL LEE BALDAZZAR beauty bells beneath bosom breath bright CASTIGLIONE censer countenance dark death deep didst divine draperies dream Earth ebony EDGAR ALLAN POE Edgar Poe excitement eyes fair fancy feel fell flowers gentle ghastly glance glory golden hath Haunted Palace heard heart Heaven Israfel JACINTA JOSEPH SKIPSEY lady LALAGE length Lenore Ligeia light lips long poem maiden melody moon murmur never Nevermore night o'er odours palace passion pause Philosophy of Composition poet poet's poetic Poetic Principle POLITIAN Quoth the Raven Raven Robert Moffat Rowena sentiment shadow sigh silent sleep smile solemn song sorrow soul sound speak spirit stars stood strange sure sweet tears terror thee thine things thou art thou hast thought thro throne truth Ulalume unto Usher utter voice wild wind wings words young
Popular passages
Page 51 - thy God hath lent thee— by these angels he hath sent thee Respite — respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore !" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.
Page 75 - 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...
Page 233 - During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.
Page 66 - Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, And tempted her out of her gloom, And conquered her scruples and gloom; And we passed to the end of the vista, But were stopped by the door of a tomb, By the door of a legended tomb; And I said — "What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb ? " She replied — "Ulalume — Ulalume — T is the vault of thy lost Ulalume!
Page 53 - 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 88 - 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 63 - The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere — The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year...
Page 45 - 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 101 - Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines and palaces and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not) Resemble nothing that is ours. Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie.
Page 75 - 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 Anabel Lee: For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee...