Tales of Mystery, Imagination, & Humour: And PoemsH. Vizetelly, 1852 - 256 стор. |
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Сторінка ix
... MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE • THE MYSTERY OF MARIE ROGET THE PURLOINED LETTER THE PREMATURE BURIAL SOME WORDS WITH A MUMMY 47 • 58 80 122 175 196 212 POEMS . THE RAVEN 232 LENORE 238 • THE BELLS 240 ULALUME 243 ANNABEL LEE . 246 BRIDAL ...
... MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE • THE MYSTERY OF MARIE ROGET THE PURLOINED LETTER THE PREMATURE BURIAL SOME WORDS WITH A MUMMY 47 • 58 80 122 175 196 212 POEMS . THE RAVEN 232 LENORE 238 • THE BELLS 240 ULALUME 243 ANNABEL LEE . 246 BRIDAL ...
Сторінка 79
... them my story - they did not believe it . I now tell it to you ; and I can scarcely expect you to put more faith in it than did the merry fishermen of Lofoden . " The Murders in the Rue Morgue . " What song. THE MAELSTROM . 73.
... them my story - they did not believe it . I now tell it to you ; and I can scarcely expect you to put more faith in it than did the merry fishermen of Lofoden . " The Murders in the Rue Morgue . " What song. THE MAELSTROM . 73.
Сторінка 80
And Poems Edgar Allan Poe. The Murders in the Rue Morgue . " What song the Syrens sang , or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women , although puzzling questions , are not beyond all conjecture . " - SIR THOMAS BROWNE ...
And Poems Edgar Allan Poe. The Murders in the Rue Morgue . " What song the Syrens sang , or what name Achilles assumed when he hid himself among women , although puzzling questions , are not beyond all conjecture . " - SIR THOMAS BROWNE ...
Сторінка 81
... while eschewing chess as frivolous . Beyond doubt there is nothing of a similar nature so greatly tasking the faculty of analysis . Chess v . whist of The best chess - player in Christendom may be MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE . 81.
... while eschewing chess as frivolous . Beyond doubt there is nothing of a similar nature so greatly tasking the faculty of analysis . Chess v . whist of The best chess - player in Christendom may be MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE . 81.
Сторінка 82
... the suit . He recognises what is played through feint , by the air with which it is thrown upon the table . A casual or inadvertent word ; the accidental dropping or turning of a card , with the accompanying 82 MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE .
... the suit . He recognises what is played through feint , by the air with which it is thrown upon the table . A casual or inadvertent word ; the accidental dropping or turning of a card , with the accompanying 82 MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE .
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altogether Annabel Lee appeared assassins Auguste Dupin Barrière du Roule Beauvais beetle bells blackguards boat body called catalepsy chamber character circumstances Commerciel committed corpse dark death's-head door doubt Dupin elopement endeavour escape Eustache evidence excitement eyes fact fancy feet fell Frenchman gang girl Gliddon hand head heard idea imagine immediately Jupiter known L'Etoile Legrand length letter limb looked Madame Deluc Madame l'Espanaye Marie Rogêt massa matter means mind minutes morning mummy murder mystery natural art nature nearly never night observed once ordinary ourang-outang outrage paper parchment Paris period person police Ponnonner prefect purloined letter question Quoth the Raven replied river Rue des Drômes Rue Morgue scarabæus scarcely scene seemed skull soul stereotomy struggle Sullivan's Island Sunday suppose sure suspicion thicket thing thought thrown tion torn traces tulip-tree Valdemar voice whole words
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Сторінка 229 - Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE. 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.
Сторінка 228 - 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.
Сторінка 232 - In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace— Radiant palace— reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion, It stood there; Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair.
Сторінка 216 - Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping; and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you.
Сторінка 229 - With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago. In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her highborn kinsmen came And bore her away from me.
Сторінка 216 - Lenore!' Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before 'Surely...
Сторінка 169 - When I wish to find out how wise, or how stupid, or how good, or how wicked is any one, or what are his thoughts at the moment, I fashion the expression of my face as accurately as possible in accordance with the expression of his, and then wait to see what thoughts or sentiments arise in my mind or heart, as if to match or correspond with the expression.
Сторінка 227 - She revels in a region of sighs: She has seen that the tears are not dry on These cheeks, where the worm never dies, And has come past the stars of the Lion To point us the path to the skies To the Lethean peace of the skies Come up, in despite of the Lion, To shine on us with her bright eyes Come up through the lair of the Lion, With love in her luminous eyes.
Сторінка 218 - 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.
Сторінка 218 - But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered Till I scarcely more than muttered, 'Other friends have flown before On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.