 | Charlotte Fiske Bates Rogé - 1832 - 882 Seiten
...velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methonght, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer...respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore! Quaff, oh, quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." "Prophet!"... | |
 | 1845
...gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining, with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels, whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted flour. " Wretch," I cried, " thy God hath lent... | |
 | 1845
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 | Edgar Allan Poe - 1884 - 24 Seiten
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 | 1845
...gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. " Wretch," I cried," thy God hath lent thee... | |
 | 1845
...o'er, But M-tvo"o volvot vinlpf lining with iho bHtlpligllt jçtoatillg О'бГ, She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. " Wretch," I cried, " thy God hath lent... | |
 | 1847
...o'er, Bat whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er. She shall press, ah, nevermore I Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer, Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. " Wretch," I cried, " thy God hath lent... | |
 | Thomas Powell - 1850 - 365 Seiten
..." Then, methought, the air grew denser, Perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls Tinkled on the tufted floor. • Wretch,'...he hath sent thee Respite— respite and nepenthe k From thy memories of Lenore ! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe And forget this lost Lenore !' Quoth... | |
 | Thomas Powell - 1850 - 365 Seiten
...Nightly shore — Tell me what thy lordly name is On the Night's Plutonian shore !' Quoth the raven, ' Nevermore.' " " Then, methought, the air grew denser, Perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls Tinkled on the tufted floor. ' Wretch,' I cried, ' thy God hath lent... | |
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Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee— by these angels he hath sent thee Respite— respite and nepenthe from thy... 
