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Books Books 1 - 10 of 132 on This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery....
" 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... "
The Southern literary messenger - Page 187
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The Cambridge Book of Poetry and Song

Charlotte Fiske Bates - American poetry - 1832 - 882 pages
...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...gloating o'er, She shall press, ah, nevermore! Then, methonght, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled...
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The American Whig Review, Volume 1

1845
...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...angels whose faint foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. " Wretch," I cried," thy God hath lent thee — by these angels he hath sentthee Respite —...
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American Whig Review, Volume 1

1845
...engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's )bi 1 r{ C 7 # ݫ ʼ57N : o}/v Q p M-tvo"o volvot vinlpf lining with iho bHtlpligllt jētoatillg О'бГ, She shall press, ah, nevermore...
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The Literary Emporium, Volumes 1-2

American literature - 1847
...engaged in guessing, bat 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...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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The living authors of America, Volume 1

Thomas Powell - American literature - 1850 - 365 pages
...Nightly shore — Tell me what thy lordly name is On the Night's Plutonian shore !' Quoth the raven, ' Nevermore.' " " Then, methought, the air grew denser,...angels whose faint foot-falls Tinkled on the tufted floor. ' Wretch,' I cried, ' thy God hath lent thee, By these angels he hath sent thee Respite —...
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The Living Authors of America: 1st ser

Thomas Powell - American literature - 1850 - 365 pages
...name is On the Night's Plutonian shore !' Quoth the raven, ' Nevermore.' " " Then, methought, the ah- grew denser, Perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by angels whose faint foot-falls From thy memories of Lenore ! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe And forget this lost Lenore !' Quoth...
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The Irish Quarterly Review, Volume 5, Part 1

Irish literature - 1855
...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...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, Ske shall...
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The Eclectic Magazine: Foreign Literature, Volume 27

John Holmes Agnew, Walter Hilliard Bidwell - 1852
...engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now turned into my bosom's core ; This, and more, I sat divining, with my head...grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer, Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. 'Wretch!' I cried, ' thy God hath lent thee...
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National Series of Selections for Reading; Adapted to the Standing ..., Volume 4

Richard Green Parker - 1852
...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...lamplight gloating o'er, She shall press, ah ! nevermore ! IS. Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer, Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls...
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Tales of Mystery, Imagination, & Humour; and Poems, Volume 456

Edgar Allan Poe - 1852 - 479 pages
...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...the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, never more ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim,...
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