Gems of Modern American Literatuare

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W.S. Johnson, 1851
 

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Стр. 17 - And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before ; so that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating " 'tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door — some late visitor entreating entrance at 38 my chamber door ; this it is, and nothing more.
Стр. 22 - The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight, But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night.
Стр. 271 - ... it is of infinite moment, that you should properly estimate the immense value of your national Union to your collective and individual happiness...
Стр. 17 - Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore — Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never — nevermore.
Стр. 22 - SAINT AUGUSTINE ! well hast thou said, That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of shame...
Стр. 17 - ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore — While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. ' 'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, ' tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.
Стр. 17 - Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore — Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; Tis the wind and nothing more.
Стр. 17 - I heard you" — here I opened wide the door — Darkness there and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals 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 !"— This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!
Стр. 271 - ... a cordial habitual and immovable attachment to it; accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as of the Palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can, in any event, be abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the various parts.
Стр. 124 - The ecstasies above With thy burning measures suit — Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love, With the fervour of thy lute — Well may the stars be mute! Yes, Heaven is thine; but this Is a world of sweets and sours; Our flowers are merely — flowers, And the shadow of thy perfect bliss Is the sunshine of ours.

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