THOU wast all that to me, love,
For which my soul did pine:
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last!
Ah, starry Hope, that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries,
"On! on!"—but o'er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast.
For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o'er!
No more—no more—no more—
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar.
And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy gray eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams—
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams.
Mots clés edgar-allan-poe
Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence.
Edgar Allan PoeMots clés intelligence madness edgar-allan-poe
In the internal decoration, if not in the external architecture of their residences, the English are supreme. The Italians have but little sentiment beyond marbles and colors. In France, meliora probant, deteriora sequuntur -- the people are too much a race of gadabouts to maintain those household proprieties of which, indeed, they have a delicate appreciation, or at least the elements of a proper sense. The Chinese and most of the Eastern races have a warm but inappropriate fancy. The Scotch are poor decorists. The Dutch have, perhaps, an indeterminate idea that a curtain is not a cabbage. In Spain, they are all curtains -- a nation of hangmen. The Russians do not furnish. The Hottentots and Kickapoos are very well in their way. The Yankees alone are preposterous.
Edgar Allan PoeMots clés edgar-allan-poe philosophy-of-furniture
I have been happy, though in a dream.
I have been happy-and I love the theme:
Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life
As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife
Mots clés poetry dreams edgar-allan-poe
I have not always been as now:
The fever'd diadem on my brow
I claim'd and won unsurprisingly-
Hath not the same fierce heirdom given
Rome to the Caeser-this is me?
The heritage of a kindly mind,
And a proud spirit which hath striven
Triumphantly with human kind.
Mots clés poetry edgar-allan-poe
I was cautious in what I said before the young lady; for I could not be sure that she was sane; and, in fact, there was a certain restless brilliancy about her eyes that half led me to imagine she was not.
Edgar Allan PoeMots clés insanity sanity short-story edgar-allan-poe
I have before suggested that a genuine blackguard is never without a pocket-handkerchief.
Edgar Allan PoeMots clés mystery short-story edgar-allan-poe blackguard pocket-handkerchief the-murders-in-rue-morgue
The raven of Edgar Allan Poe has a halo that he extinguishes from time to time
("Spanish Generosity")
Mots clés edgar-allan-poe the-raven
I would like that very much. You have a bargain, lady. I will find you here among the lost souls, trapped women, and birds. I find that my own state has improved, if only slightly. Where I was once likely to travel in the presence of a murder of crows, I find I will only be burdened by an unkindness of ravens. It gives me heart." - A. E. Poe in Nevermore
David Niall WilsonMots clés edgar-allan-poe raven crows lenore
It’s a case of mistaken identity. It’s one big mistake. You weren’t even in the country when it happened.”
Maja in the short story 'Metro' by Steen Langstrup
Mots clés horror short-stories noir edgar-allan-poe scandinavian
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