John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Page 656
| Edgar Allan Poe. (1809–1849) (continued) |
| 6626 |
| And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before. |
| The Raven. |
| 6627 |
| Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dreamed before. |
| The Raven. |
| 6628 |
| Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,— Perched, and sat, and nothing more. |
| The Raven. |
| 6629 |
| Whom unmerciful disaster Followed fast and followed faster. |
| The Raven. |
| 6630 |
| Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door! Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.” |
| The Raven. |
| 6631 |
| And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted—Nevermore! |
| The Raven. |
| 6632 |
| To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome. |
| To Helen. |
| 6633 |
| The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere— The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year. |
| Ulalume. |
| 6634 |
| Here once, through an alley Titanic, Of cypress, I roamed with my soul,— Of cypress, with Psyche, my soul. |
| Ulalume. |
| 6635 |
| A Quixotic sense of the honorable—of the chivalrous. |
| Letter to Mrs. Whitman. Oct. 18, 1848. |