Reference > Quotations > John Bartlett, comp. > Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. > Page 656
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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.
 

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