The Works of Edgar Allan Poe: Literary criticism. I: Introduction to the literary criticism. On poetry and the poetsStone & Kimball, 1895 |
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acatalectic accented admire admit altogether anapæst angels artist ballad bastard beauty better bird Broadway Journal Bryant cæsura called charge CHISPA composition course critic dactyl death drama Drama of Exile effect English equality eyes fact fancy feeling feet foot genius Graham's Magazine Greek heart hexameter iambus idea identical imagination imitation length lines literary long syllable Longfellow lover Lowell matter means merely merit metre Miss Barrett natural never Nevermore o'er original Orion Outis Outis's passages passion plagiarism play plot Poe's poem poet Poetic Principle poetical poetry Preciosa Professor Longfellow prose Prosodies quoted Raven reader regard rhyme rhythm satire scansion scene sense short syllables soul Southern Literary Messenger Spanish Student speak spirit spondaic spondee stanza supposed thee thesis thing thou thought tion Tortesa trochaic trochee true truth verse versification Victorian voice whole words writing written Zippa
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Сторінка 14 - I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist, And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist: A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Сторінка 40 - thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Сторінка 169 - 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 my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Сторінка 27 - ... Fresh as the first beam glittering on a sail, That brings our friends up from the underworld, Sad as the last which reddens over one That sinks with all we love below the verge; So sad, so fresh, the days that are no more.
Сторінка 24 - Fashion'd so slenderly, Young and so fair! 'Ere her limbs frigidly Stiffen too rigidly, — Decently, kindly, Smooth and compose them; And her eyes, close them, Staring so blindly! Dreadfully staring Through muddy impurity. As when with the daring Last look of despairing Fixed on futurity.
Сторінка 22 - One more Unfortunate, Weary of breath, Rashly importunate, Gone to her death! Take her up tenderly, Lift her with care; — Fashioned so slenderly, Young, and so fair! Look at her garments Clinging like cerements; Whilst the wave constantly Drips from her clothing; Take her up instantly, Loving, not loathing. Touch her not scornfully; Think of her mournfully, Gently and humanly; Not of the stains of her, All that remains of her Now is pure womanly.
Сторінка 39 - When it most closely allies itself to Beauty: the death then of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world...
Сторінка 117 - So live that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan which moves To that mysterious realm where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of Death, Thou go not like the quarry -slave at night Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him and lies down to pleasant dreams.
Сторінка 35 - That pleasure which is at once the most intense, the most elevating, and the most pure, is, I believe, found in the contemplation of the beautiful. When, indeed, men speak of Beauty, they mean, precisely, not a quality, as is supposed, but an effect; they refer, in short, just to that intense and pure elevation of soul — not of intellect, or of heart — upon which I have commented, and which is experienced in consequence of contemplating "the beautiful.
Сторінка 139 - We watched her breathing through the night, Her breathing soft and low, As in her breast the wave of life Kept heaving to and fro. " ' So silently we seemed to speak, So slowly moved about, As we had lent her half our powers To eke her living out. " ' Our very hopes belied our fears ; Our fears our hopes belied ; We thought her dying when she slept, And sleeping when she died. " ' For when the morn came dim and sad, And chill with early showers, Her quiet eyelids closed ; — she had Another morn...