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rel="nofollow" href="#ub7da77c8-e1dc-5625-8c66-d67c3d4259cb">The Forest Reverie

       Other Poems

       An Acrostic

       Beloved Physician

       The Doomed City

       Deep in Earth

       The Divine Right of Kings

       Elizabeth

       Enigma

       Epigram for Wall Street

       Evangeline

       Fanny

       Impromptu – To Kate Carol

       Lines on Ale

       O, Tempora! O, Mores!

       Poetry

       Serenade

       Spiritual Song

       Stanzas

       Stanzas – to F. S. Osgood

       Tamerlane (early version)

       To ——

       To Isaac Lea

       To Margaret

       To Miss Louise Olivia Hunter

       To Octavia

       The Valley Nis

       Visit of the Dead

       Prose Poems

       The Island of the Fay

       The Power of Words

       The Colloquy of Monos and Una

       The Conversation of Eiros and Charmion

       Shadow—a Parable

       Silence—a Fable

       Essays

       The Philosophy of Composition

       The Rationale of Verse

       The Poetic Principle

       Old English Poetry

       Biography

       The Dreamer by Mary Newton Stanard

      Poetry

       Table of Contents

      The Raven

       Table of Contents

      Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

       Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

       While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

       As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

       “’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door —

       Only this, and nothing more.”

      Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

       And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

      Eagerly I wished the morrow; — vainly I had sought to borrow

      From my books surcease of sorrow — sorrow for the lost Lenore —

      For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore —

       Nameless here for evermore.

      And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

       Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

       So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,

       “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door —

      

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