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" Nevermore." 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... "
Our Poetical Favorites, Second Series: A Selection from the Best Monor Poems ... - الصفحة 283
1876 - عدد الصفحات: 543
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The Southern literary messenger, المجلد 14

1848 - عدد الصفحات: 780
...unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and lake thy form from off my door!' Quoth the raven, 'Nevermore.' " And...On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door ; Ami his eyes have all the seeming of » demon's that is dreaming. And the lamp-light o'er him...

The Southern literary messenger, المجلد 11

1845 - عدد الصفحات: 778
...the pallid bust of Pallas jiut alrcve my chamber door ; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming...soul from out that shadow, that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted— nevermore ! THE LAKES AND THE VALLEY OF THE MISSISSIPPI. In the last Messenger,...

The American Whig Review, المجلد 1

1845 - عدد الصفحات: 732
...unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door ! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!" Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." And the...chamber door ; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my...

The American Whig Review, المجلد 1

1845 - عدد الصفحات: 688
...unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door ! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door !" Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." And...chamber door ; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor ; And...

The Literary Emporium, المجلدات 1-2

1847 - عدد الصفحات: 434
...unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door I Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door !" Quoth the raven " Nevermore." And the...chamber door ; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; And my...

The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - 1850 - عدد الصفحات: 382
...loneliness unbroken ! Quit the bust above my door ! Take thy beak from out my heart, and Take thy form from off my door !' Quoth the raven ' Nevermore.' " And...soul from out that shadow That lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore !" Although his mechanical art is too visible, we cannot withhold...

The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - 1850 - عدد الصفحات: 384
...loneliness unbroken ! Quit the bust above my door ! Take thy beak from out my heart, and Take thy form from off my door !' Quoth the raven ' Nevermore.' " And...soul from out that shadow That lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore P* great master of the musical chords of verse, but he superadded...

The Irish Quarterly Review, المجلد 5،الجزء 1

1855 - عدد الصفحات: 724
...still is sitting, still is sitting, On the pallid bust of Pallas, just above my chamber -door, And bis eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,...soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, Shull be lifted, Never more," But it is not alone the subjectivity which we observe in these...

The North British review

1852 - عدد الصفحات: 620
...unbroken ! — quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door !' Quoth the Raven, ' Nevermore !' " And...floor ; And my soul from out that shadow that lies flitting on the floor, Shall be lifted nevermore." Our readers will all agree with us in pronouncing...

Tales of Mystery, Imagination and Humour ...

Edgar Allan Poe - 1852 - عدد الصفحات: 298
...thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door ! " Quoth the Raven, " Never more." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still...soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor, Shall bo lifted — never more ? Kmn. AH, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown for ever...




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