O, Times! O, Manners! It is my opinionThat you are changing sadly your dominion I mean the reign of manners hath long ceased,For men have none at all, or bad at least;And as for times, altho' 'tis sai...
Music, when combined with a pleasurable idea, is poetry; music, without the idea, is simply music; the idea, without the music, is prose, from its very definitiveness.
The grandeur that was Rome.
In spring of youth it was my lotTo haunt of the wide world a spotThe which I could not love the less-So lovely was the lonelinessOf a wild lake, with black rock bound,And the tall pines that towered a...
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary...
Even for those to whom life and death are equal jests. There are some things that are still held in respect.
I am SHADOW, and my dwelling is near to theCatacombs of Ptolemais, and hard by those dim plains of Helusionwhich border upon the foul Charonian canal. And then did we, theseven, start from our seats i...
I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth.I heard many things in hell.
I stand amid the roarOf a surf-tormented shore,And I hold within my handGrains of the golden sand-How few! yet how they creepThrough my fingers to the deep,While I weep- while I weep!O God! can I not...
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.
In beauty of face no maiden ever equaled her. It was the radiance of an opium-dream - an airy and spirit-lifting vision more wildly divine than the fantasies which hovered about the slumbering souls o...
Invisible things are the only realities.
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore...
Oh, outcast of all outcasts most abandoned! --to the earth art thou not forever dead? to its honors, to its flowers, to its golden aspirations? --and a cloud, dense, dismal, and limitless, does it not...
Quoth the Raven, Nevermore.
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best have gone to their eternal rest.
Yet we met; and fate bound us together at the alter,and I never spoke of passion nor thought of love. She, however shunned society, and, attaching herself to me alone rendered me happy. It is a happin...
A short story must have a single mood and every sentence must build towards it.
On desperate seas long wont to roam Thy hyacinth hair they classic face Thy naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome.
That fitful strain of melancholy which will ever be found inseperable from the perfection of the beautiful.
Showing 141 to 160 of 217 results