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Acres Ann Hathaway Annabel Lee Balaam beauty bell blessed blood breath bright brow Buzfuz called Charles Mathews Chas child consonant sound cried dark dead dear death door Duke earth Eugene Aram eyes face father fear feel fire Gabriel Grub gentlemen grave Hamlet hand happy hath head hear heard heart heaven honour Hyder Ali Inchcape Rock John Anderson Kate King Lady F laugh light light sleeper live look lord Lord of Ross madam married Miss Willises morning never night o'er Old Mother Hubbard Orlando Pangloss passion pause Peter Stone Pickwick poet poor pray Pronounce the consonant Rosalind round silent Sir F Sir Lucius sleep smile Sneer soul speak sweet tears tell thee things thou thought twas voice vowel waves wife Winkle words young Zounds
Страница 128 - I was a child and she was a child, In this kingdom by the sea, But we loved with a love that was more than love, I and my Annabel Lee; With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me. And this was the reason that, long ago, In this kingdom by the sea...
Страница 285 - In religion, What damned error, but some sober brow Will bless it, and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? There is no vice so simple, but assumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts...
Страница 30 - I met a little cottage girl: she was eight years old/ she said; her hair was thick with many a curl that clustered round her head.
Страница 52 - With a bare bodkin ? who would fardels bear, To grunt and sweat under a weary life, But that the dread of something after death, The undiscover'd country from whose bourn No traveller returns, puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of ? Thus conscience does make cowards of us all ; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents...
Страница 38 - John Your locks are like the snaw ; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson my jo. John Anderson my jo, John, We clamb the hill thegither ; And mony a canty day, John, We've had wi...
Страница 34 - As a sick girl. Ye gods ! it doth amaze me A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world And bear the palm alone.
Страница 43 - Oh, the bells, bells, bells! What a tale their terror tells Of Despair! How they clang, and clash, and roar! What a horror they outpour On the bosom of the palpitating air! Yet the ear it fully knows, By the twanging, And the clanging, How the danger ebbs and flows; Yet the ear distinctly tells, In the jangling, And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells Of the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells In the clamor...
Страница 52 - Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, Which was not so before. There's no such thing: It is the bloody business which informs Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one...
Страница 295 - Lenore !"Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, All my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping Something louder than before. " Surely," said I, " surely that is Something at my window lattice : Let me see then what thereat is, And this mystery explore — Let my heart be still a moment And this mystery explore ; — 'Tis the wind and nothing more.