Elzevir Classics: Being Choice Selections Reprinted from the Elzevir Library ...
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ancient Annie arms bear bells beneath blessed blood bosom bound bring child close cloth comes dark dead dear death deep door Enoch eyes face fair fall father fear feel fire follow friends give green half hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven hills hope hour King knew land leaded leave light living look Lord maiden mind morn mother moved never night o'er once pass poor rest rise rose round sail seemed seen ship side smile song soon sorrow soul sound speak spirit stood strong sure sweet tears tell thee things thou thought Till town true turn voice wall waters wild wind wish young youth
Seite 289 - 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...
Seite 34 - Then kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing," That thus they all shall meet in future days: There, ever bask in uncreated rays, No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise, In such society, yet still more dear; While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere...
Seite 297 - They are neither man nor woman — They are neither brute nor human — They are Ghouls: — And their king it is who tolls ; — And he rolls, rolls, rolls, Rolls A psean from the bells!
Seite 286 - ... morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating, " 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber...
Seite 33 - Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme: How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed; How He Who bore in Heaven the second name Had not on earth whereon to lay His head; How His first followers and servants sped; The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who lone in Patmos banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, And heard great Bab'lon's doom pronounced by Heaven's command. Then kneeling down to Heaven's Eternal King, The saint, the father, and the husband prays; Hope 'springs...
Seite 7 - For, e'en though vanquished, he could argue still, While words of learned length and thundering sound Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew That one small head could carry all he knew.
Seite 51 - O' my sweet Highland Mary. How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk, How rich the hawthorn's blossom, As underneath their fragrant shade I clasp'd her to my bosom ! The golden hours on angel wings Flew o'er me and my dearie; For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. Wi' mony a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu' tender; And pledging aft to meet again, We tore oursels asunder; But, Oh!
Seite 215 - Beyond the shadow of the ship I watched the water-snakes; • They moved in tracks of shining white; And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire — Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire.
Seite 288 - Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning — little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door, Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore.
Seite 291 - 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...