 | 1858 - 602 páginas
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 | Charlotte Fiske Bates - 1832 - 1022 páginas
...What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking " Nevermore." This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing...lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methonght, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls... | |
 | 1848 - 780 páginas
...What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking ' Nevermore.' " This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing...cushion's velvet lining, that the lamp-light gloated o'er, Bat whose velvet violet lining, with the lamp-light gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore !... | |
 | 1845 - 778 páginas
...this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking " Nevermore." This 1 sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my boaom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet... | |
 | 1845 - 648 páginas
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 | 1845 - 688 páginas
...this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking "Nevermore." This Г sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing...lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint... | |
 | 1845 - 732 páginas
...What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking " Nevermore." I stood repeating " 'Tis M-tvo"o volvot vinlpf lining with iho bHtlpligllt jçtoatillg О'бГ, She shall press, ah, nevermore... | |
 | Edgar Allan Poe - 1884 - 44 páginas
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 | 1847 - 434 páginas
...gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking " Nevermore." This I sat engaged in guessing, bat no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes...cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, Bat whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er. She shall press, ah, nevermore I Then,... | |
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This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But... 
