The Prose Tales of Edgar Allan Poe: Second Series

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A. C. Armstrong & Company, 1889 - Всего страниц: 536
 

Содержание

I
1
II
25
III
44
IV
75
V
88
VI
98
VII
122
VIII
131
XI
199
XII
205
XIII
223
XIV
242
XV
252
XVI
265
XVII
273
XVIII
275

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Стр. 107 - tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres.
Стр. 108 - And the will therein lieth, which dieth not. Who knoweth the mysteries of the will, with its vigor? For God is but a great will pervading all things by nature of its intentness. Man doth not yield him to the angels, nor unto death utterly, save only through the weakness of his feeble will.
Стр. 74 - It was Wilson ; but he spoke no longer in a whisper, and I could have fancied that I myself was speaking while he said : " You have conquered and I yield. Yet, henceforward art thou also dead — dead to the World, to Heaven, and to Hope ! In me didst thou exist — and, in my death, see by this image, which is thine own, how utterly thou hast murdered thyself.
Стр. 112 - It was spotted all over, at irregular intervals, with arabseque figures, about a foot in diameter, and wrought upon the cloth in patterns of the most jetty black. But these figures partook of the true character of the arabesque only when regarded from a single point of view. By a contrivance now common, and indeed traceable to a very remote period of antiquity, they were made changeable in aspect.
Стр. 535 - The darkness had materially increased, relieved only by the glare of the water thrown back from the white curtain before us. Many gigantic and pallidly white birds flew continuously now from beyond the veil, and their scream was the eternal Tekeli-li! as they retreated from our vision. Hereupon Nu-Nu stirred in the bottom of the boat; but upon touching him, we found his spirit departed.
Стр. 45 - I am the descendant of a race whose imaginative and easily excitable temperament has at all times rendered them remarkable ; and, in my earliest infancy, I gave evidence of having fully inherited the family character. As I advanced in years it was more strongly developed; becoming, for many reasons, a cause of serious disquietude to my friends, and of positive injury to myself. I grew self-willed, addicted to the wildest caprices, and a prey to the most ungovernable passions.
Стр. 108 - 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.
Стр. 108 - And 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, While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy, "Man," And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.
Стр. 57 - ... this distant day, let me do him the simple justice to acknowledge that I can recall no occasion when the suggestions of my rival were on the side of those errors or follies so usual to his immature age and seeming inexperience ; that his moral sense, at least, if not his general talents and worldly wisdom, was far keener than my own; and that I might,!/ to-day, have been a better, and thus a happier man, had I less frequently rejected the counsels embodied in those meaning whispers which I then...
Стр. 89 - Valley of the Many-Colored Grass. No unguided footstep ever came upon that vale; for it lay away up among a range of giant hills that hung beetling around about it, shutting out the sunlight from its sweetest recesses.

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