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By Edgar Allan Poe

Poe's poems were memorized and recited by way of thousands. between his best-loved works are "The Raven" with its hypnotic chant of "nevermore, " and the sensuous and lyrical "Annabel Lee." This assortment contains all of Poe's preferred rhymes.

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The affliction — the nausea — The pitiless ache — Have ceased, with the fever That maddened my mind — With the fever referred to as “Living” That burned in my mind. And oh! of all tortures That torture the worst Has abated — the negative Torture of thirst For the napthaline river Of ardour accurst: — i've got drank of a water That quenches all thirst: — Of a water that flows, With a lullaby sound, From a spring yet a truly few toes lower than flooring — From a cavern no longer very some distance Down below floor. And ah! enable it by no means Be foolishly acknowledged That my room it's gloomy And slim my mattress; For guy by no means slept In a special mattress — And, to sleep, you need to shut eye in precisely one of these mattress. My tantalized spirit right here blandly reposes, Forgetting, or by no means Regretting its roses — Its previous agitations Of myrtles and roses: For now, whereas so quietly mendacity, it fancies A holier smell approximately it, of pansies — A rosemary scent, Commingled with pansies — With rue and the gorgeous Puritan pansies. And so it lies fortunately, Bathing in lots of A dream of the reality And the great thing about Annie — Drowned in a tub Of the tresses of Annie. She tenderly kissed me, She fondly caressed, after which I fell lightly To sleep on her breast — Deeply to sleep From the heaven of her breast. whilst the sunshine was once extinguished, She lined me hot, and he or she prayed to the angels to maintain me from damage — To the queen of the angels To defend me from damage. and that i lie so composedly, Now, in my mattress, (Knowing her love) that you just fancy me useless — and that i leisure so contentedly, Now in my mattress, (With her love at my breast) that you just fancy me lifeless — that you simply shudder to examine me, pondering me lifeless: — yet my center it really is brighter Than the entire many Stars within the sky, For it flickers with Annie — It glows with the sunshine Of the affection of my Annie — With the idea of the sunshine Of the eyes of my Annie. TO M. L. S —— Of all who hail thy presence because the morning — Of all to whom thine absence is the evening — The blotting completely from out excessive heaven The sacred sunlight — of all who, weeping, bless thee Hourly for desire — for all times — ah! exceptionally, For the resurrection of deep-buried religion honestly — in advantage — in Humanity — Of all who, on Despair’s unhallowed mattress mendacity right down to die, have without warning arisen At thy soft-murmured phrases, “Let there be gentle! ” on the soft-murmured phrases that have been fulfilled within the seraphic glancing of thine eyes — Of all who owe thee such a lot — whose gratitude Nearest resembles worship — oh, be mindful The truest — the main fervently committed, And imagine that those susceptible traces are written through him — through him who, as he pens them, thrills to imagine His spirit is communing with an angel’s. TO —— —— —— no longer some time past, the author of those strains, within the mad delight of intellectuality, Maintained “the energy of phrases” — denied that ever A idea arose in the human mind past the utterance of the human tongue; And now, as though in mockery of that boast, phrases — overseas delicate dissyllables — Italian tones made basically to be murmured by means of angels dreaming within the moonlit “dew That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill” — Have stirred from out the abysses of his middle, Unthought-like recommendations which are the souls of suggestion, Richer, some distance wilder, a ways diviner visions Than even the seraph harper, Israfel, Who has “the sweetest voice of all God’s creatures,” might desire to utter.

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