Penny readings in prose and verse, selected and ed. by J.E. Carpenter, Volume 4

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Page 146 - 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 147 - 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 145 - or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — Here I opened wide the door: Darkness there, and nothing more.
Page 215 - My liege, I did deny no prisoners ; But, I remember, when the fight was done, When I was dry with rage, and extreme toil, Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly...
Page 146 - Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore; Not the least obeisance made he; not...
Page 48 - A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest; And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.
Page 145 - Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before ; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word "Lenore.
Page 38 - Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives Followed the Piper for their lives. From street to street he piped advancing, And step for step they followed dancing, Until they came to the river Weser Wherein all plunged and perished! Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, Swam across and lived to carry (As he, the manuscript he cherished) To Rat-land home his commentary...
Page 23 - With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, A woman sat in unwomanly rags, Plying her needle and thread, — Stitch! stitch! stitch! In poverty, hunger and dirt; And still with a voice of dolorous pitch — Would that its tone could reach the rich ! — She sang the
Page 149 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my...

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