 | 1858 - 602 páginas
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 | Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 1022 páginas
...stayed he; Hut, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber doorPerched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and...said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly, grim and ancient Haven, wandering from the Nightly shore — Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian... | |
 | 1848 - 780 páginas
...bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and nothing more. "Then this ebon bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave...on the Night's Plutonian shore!' Quoth the raven, ' Nevermore.' "Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer... | |
 | 1845 - 778 páginas
...be ; Bat, wjth mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door — Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and...this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, Bj the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, ''Thoojh thy crest be shorn and shaven,... | |
 | 1845 - 648 páginas
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 | 1845 - 732 páginas
...he ; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door — Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and...on the Night's Plutonian shore !" Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." Much 1 marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little... | |
 | 1845 - 688 páginas
...he ; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door — Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door — Perched, and sat, and...— Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutoman shore !" Quoth the raven, " Nevermore." Much 1 marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse... | |
 | Edgar Allan Poe - 1884 - 44 páginas
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 | Thomas Powell - 1850 - 382 páginas
...visibly the poet's intention to produce effect by the outer shape of verse is here made apparent : r " Then this ebony bird beguiling My sad fancy into smiling,...On the Night's Plutonian shore !' Quoth the raven, ' Nevermore.' " " Then, methought, the air grew denser, Perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels... | |
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Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, — "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou/' I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly... 
