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Page 149 - Hear the sledges with the bells — Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight...
Page 279 - Anywhere, anywhere Out of the world ! In she plunged boldly, No matter how coldly The rough river ran, — Over the brink of it, Picture it — think of it, Dissolute Man ! Lave in it, drink of it Then, if you can...
Page 154 - 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.
Page 255 - O, lift me from the grass! I die, I faint, I fail! Let thy love in kisses rain On my lips and eyelids pale. My cheek is cold and white, alas! My heart beats loud and fast: Oh! press it close to thine again, Where it will break at last!
Page 132 - 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
Page 302 - Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, — "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!
Page 278 - Where the lamps quiver So far in the river, With many a light From window and casement, From garret to basement, She stood, with amazement, Houseless by night.
Page 169 - 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 176 - Thank Heaven! the crisis, The danger, is past, And the lingering illness Is over at last — And the fever called "Living" Is conquered at last. Sadly, I know I am shorn of my strength. And no muscle I move As I lie at full length — But no matter! — I feel I am better at length. And I rest so composedly, Now, in my bed, That any beholder Might fancy me dead — Might start at beholding me, Thinking me dead. The moaning and groaning. The sighing and sobbing, Are quieted now, With that horrible...