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Книги Книги 31 - 40 из 165 по запросу Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember....
" Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore, For the... "
The Dublin University Magazine - Стр. 304
1875
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ADVENTURES AND ACHIEVEMENTS OF AMERICANS;

HENRY HOWE - 1859
...weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow—vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow...
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Poets of England and America; being selections from the best authors of both ...

England - 1860
...muttered, " tapping at my chamber door; Only this, and nothing more." n. Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow ; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow...
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The Ladies' Reader: Designed for the Use of Ladies' Schools and Family ...

John William Stanhope Hows - 1860 - Страниц: 425
...mutter'd, " Tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember, It was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember Wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wish'd the morrow ; Vainly I had tried to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — Sorrow...
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Nightingale Valley: A Collection, Including a Great Number of the Choicest ...

William Allingham - 1860 - Страниц: 288
...mutter'd, " tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wish'd the morrow ;— vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow —...
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Folk Songs

John Williamson Palmer - 1861 - Страниц: 466
...lost Lenore, For the rare and radiant maiden Whom the angels name Lenore : Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain Rustling of each purple...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...
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Adventures and Achievements of Americans: A Series of Narratives ...

Henry Howe - 1861 - Страниц: 732
...visiter," I mutter'd, tapping at my chamber doorOnly this, and nothing more.'' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow —...
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A book of English poetry; ed. by T. Shorter

Thomas Shorter - 1861
...muttered, "tapping at my chamber-door— Only this, and nothing more.** Ah 1 distinctly T remember it waa in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost npon the floor. Eagerly I wish*d the morrow ; — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease...
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The Fifth Reader of the School and Family Series

Marcius Willson - 1862 - Страниц: 538
...muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.' 2. Ah ! distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow ; vainly I had sought to borrow From mv books surcease of sorrow — sorrow...
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A compendium of American literature, arranged by C.D. Cleveland. Stereotyped ed

Charles Dexter Cleveland - 1862
...mutter'd, "tapping at my chamber-door, — Only this, and nothing more." Ah ! distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Kagerly I wish'd the morrow ; — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow, —...
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The Children's Garland: From the Best Poets

Coventry Patmore - 1862 - Страниц: 344
...I mutter'd, ' tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more.' Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wish'd the morrow ; — vainly had I sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow...
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