The works of Edgar Allan Poe [with a mem. by R.W. Griswold].

Cover
1865
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LibraryThing Review

Nutzerbericht  - Kaethe - LibraryThing

I'm reading the story of Pfaall. I had no idea that Poe had written science fiction about a trip to the moon. Amazing. *** Finished Pfaall, which turns out to be an amusing story, as well as ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

LibraryThing Review

Nutzerbericht  - Kaethe - LibraryThing

I'm reading the story of Pfaall. I had no idea that Poe had written science fiction about a trip to the moon. Amazing. *** Finished Pfaall, which turns out to be an amusing story, as well as ... Vollständige Rezension lesen

Ausgewählte Seiten

Inhalt

I
liii
II
47
III
82
IV
96
V
104
VI
115
VII
125
X
144
XX
331
XXI
338
XXII
345
XXIII
352
XXIV
358
XXV
362
XXVI
373
XXVII
378

XI
155
XII
172
XIII
205
XIV
254
XV
273
XVI
283
XVIII
302
XIX
317
XXVIII
394
XXIX
407
XXX
427
XXXI
436
XXXII
443
XXXIII
459
XXXIV
465

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Beliebte Passagen

Seite 279 - DURING THE WHOLE OF a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country, and at length found myself, as the shades of evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.
Seite 288 - Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow; (This, all this, was in the olden Time, long ago) And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away.
Seite 444 - And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued. Out - out are the lights - out all! And over each quivering form, The curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm, And the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, 'Man,' And its hero the Conqueror Worm.
Seite v - Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece, And the grandeur that was Rome.
Seite 279 - I say insufferable; for the feeling was unrelieved by any of that half-pleasurable, because poetic, sentiment with which the mind usually receives even the sternest natural images of the desolate or terrible.
Seite 364 - On! on!"— but o'er the Past (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast! For, alas! alas! with me The light of Life is o'er! "No more — no more...
Seite 443 - Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low, And hither and thither fly — Mere puppets they, who come and go At bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro, Flapping from out their Condor wings Invisible Wo!
Seite 73 - Readily; I have solved others of an abstruseness ten thousand times greater. Circumstances, and a certain bias of mind, have led me to take interest in such riddles, and it may well be doubted whether human ingenuity can construct an enigma of the kind which human ingenuity may not, by proper application, resolve.
Seite 286 - An excited and highly distempered ideality threw a sulphureous lustre over all. His long improvised dirges will ring forever in my ears. Among other things, I hold painfully in mind a certain singular perversion and amplification of the wild air of the last waltz of Von Weber.
Seite 444 - Man doth not yield himself to the angels, nor unto death utterly, save only through the weakness of his feeble will.

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