Zehn schottische Lieder verdentscht von W.B. Macdonald. Schott. und Deutsch

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Page 62 - 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 whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch...
Page 58 - This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you" — here I opened wide the door; Darkness there and nothing more.
Page 64 - Be that word our sign of parting, bird, or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken! Leave my loneliness unbroken! Quit the bust above my door! Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!
Page 64 - thing of evil - prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.
Page 54 - BRIGHTEST and best of the sons of the morning ! Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid! Star of the East, the horizon adorning, Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid...
Page 62 - thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted...
Page 54 - Cold on His cradle the dew-drops are shining Low lies His head with the beasts of the stall Angels adore Him, in slumber reclining, Maker and Monarch and Saviour of all.
Page 58 - Lenore !" Merely this, and nothing more. Back into my 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.
Page 64 - And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, . And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor: And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted — nevermore...
Page 48 - A nd will I see his face again ? And will I hear him speak ? I'm downright dizzy wi' the thought, In troth I'm like to greet!

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