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A. M. Madot Aaraaf Al Aaraaf Allan Ameriean amid angels Annabel Lee Auber baek Baldazzar beautiful bells Birket Foster breath bright Broadway Journal Castiglione Cooper deseend didst dream eaeh ealled eame eannot Earl of Leieester eause EDGAR ALLAN POE eeho effeet ehamber door eharaeter eheek ehild eity elose elouds eome eomposition eould eritieal Evant exeitement eyes faee faet fair faney feel flowers gentle glory happy happy flowers hast hath heart heaven Israfel Jaeinta John Tenniel Lalage Lenore Ligeia light lone maiden melaneholy melody moon mueh musie never Nevermore night o'er odours onee passion poem poet poetieal poetry POLITIAN quarrel Quoth the Raven Riehmond shadow sigh silenee skies sleep smile song sorrow soul speak spirit star strange sueh sweet thee thine Thomas Moore thou art thro throne ULALUME unto voiee W. J. Linton whieh wild wind wing
Page 15 - 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.
Page 88 - On seas less hideously serene. But lo, a stir is in the air! The wave — there is a movement there! As if the towers had thrust aside, In slightly sinking, the dull tide — As if their tops had feebly given A void within the filmy Heaven.
Page xliii - Nevermore." "Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend," I shrieked, upstarting— " 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!
Page 7 - For every sound that floats From the rust within their throats Is a groan. And the people — ah, the people, They that dwell up in the steeple, All alone, And who tolling, tolling, tolling, In that muffled monotone, Feel a glory in so rolling On the human heart a stone — They are neither man nor woman, They are neither brute nor human, They are Ghouls...
Page 16 - 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.