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" 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 poetical works of Edgar Allan Poe with a notice by J. Hannay - Página xxxii
por Edgar Allan Poe - 1853
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The Poetical Keepsake: Consisting of the Sweetest Poems

1866 - 480 páginas
...door. " 'Tis some visitor." I muttered, " tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more." Ah ! distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,...angels name Lenore — Nameless here for evermore. And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic...
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Gems of Literature, Elegant, Rare, and Suggestive ...

Gems - 1866 - 147 páginas
...door ; " Tis some visitor," I muttered, " tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more." Ah ! distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,...angels name Lenore — Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrill'd me — fill'd me with fantastic...
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Progressive Readers: A Class Book for the Use of Advanced Pupils, in ..., Tema 5

John Epy Lovell - 1866
...door. " 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, " tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more." Ah ! distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,...angels name Lenore — Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling • i" each purple curtain Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic...
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The Sixth Reader: Consisting of Extracts in Prose and Verse, with ..., Libro 6

George Stillman Hillard - 1866 - 436 páginas
...door. "Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more." Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,...— For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore — Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain...
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Select Readings from the Poets and Prose Writers of Every Country

James Fleming (ed) - 1866
...visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door ; Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the black December, And each separate dying ember wrought its...surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore— 1 For the rare and radiant maiden whom the ' angels name Lenore — Nameless here for evermore. And...
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The Progressive English reading books, Volumen4

Nelson Thomas and sons, ltd - 1866
...chamber door. " Tis some visitor," I muttered, ''tapping at my chamber doorOnly this, and nothing more." Ah distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,...the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;— vainly had I sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore— For the rare...
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The Advanced Reader

1866 - 400 páginas
...door. " 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door — Only this, and nothing more." Ah distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,...the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow;— vainly had I sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lcnore — For the rare...
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The Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe, with Original Memoir. Illustrated by ...

Edgar Allan Poe - 1866
...door. " Tis some visitor," I muttered, " tapping at my chamber door — Only this and nothing more." , Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,...wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished tho morrow ; — vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the...
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Poetical readings and recitations, by R. and T. Armstrong

Robert Armstrong (master of Madras coll) - 1866
...door; " "Tis some visitor," I mutter'd, " tapping at my chamber door— Only this, and nothing more." Ah ! distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,...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—sorrow for the...
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One Hundred Choice Selections in Poetry and Prose: Both New and Old ...

Nathaniel Kirk Richardson - 1866 - 192 páginas
...presence of which the iron hearts of your warriors shall be turned into ashes! THE KAVEN.—Edgar A. Poe. Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,...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—sorrow for the...
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