DissyLove, you beat me to it, sweetheart. The Cask of Amontillado is absolutely my favorite short story of all time.
(It's only a coincidence that it just so happens to be the literary world's only perfect coldblooded murder how-to manual, honest.)
Printable View
DissyLove, you beat me to it, sweetheart. The Cask of Amontillado is absolutely my favorite short story of all time.
(It's only a coincidence that it just so happens to be the literary world's only perfect coldblooded murder how-to manual, honest.)
Hey, great minds think alike! (scary, huh?):lol:
I'm glad so many of you are enjoying this. http://www.disneyworldtrivia.com/for...milies/yes.gif I may have to curl up with one of my Poe books tonight and enjoy some of his dark, foreboding tales... :book: Sigh...
Quoth the raven....
Nevermore....
I love the Tell Tale heart to. It use to creep me out about he heart beat bein heard in the wall.Great Thread Bobby:thumbs:
Ah, very nice Lou... :yes: Very nice... :DQuote:
Originally Posted by AKQJ10
Oh, that's a good one Jerrame. I'm glad you like my thread. :yes: :grin:Quote:
Originally Posted by JEDIPRINCESS
<CENTER>ANNABEL LEE
</CENTER>
by Edgar Allan Poe
(1849)
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;--
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love--
I and my Annabel Lee--
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night
Chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me:--
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of a cloud, chilling
And killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we--
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in Heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:--
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea--
In her tomb by the side of the sea.
"Quoth the Reagan--
'Less Is More.'"
Gotta be the comedian now don't ya? :lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by Conceited Ape
<CENTER>ELIZABETH </CENTER><CENTER>by Edgar Allan Poe </CENTER><CENTER>(1850) </CENTER>
Elizabeth, it surely is most fit [Logic and common usage so commanding]
In thy own book that first thy name be writ,
Zeno and other sages notwithstanding;
And I have other reasons for so doing
Besides my innate love of contradiction;
Each poet - if a poet - in pursuing
The muses thro' their bowers of Truth or Fiction,
Has studied very little of his part,
Read nothing, written less - in short's a fool
Endued with neither soul, nor sense, nor art,
Being ignorant of one important rule,
Employed in even the theses of the school-
Called - I forget the heathenish Greek name
[Called anything, its meaning is the same]
"Always write first things uppermost in the heart."
Definitely. Always go for the laugh, and as much as I dig EAP, he could have used some comic relief.Quote:
Originally Posted by PumpkinJack81
I thought I'd make my 4,000 post related to something I thoroughly enjoy and what's better than another Poe poem posted in the Poe thread I started? :lol: Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy ol' Ed. :yes:
Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness- for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.
The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne'er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.
The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!
Yeah, he was never a light-hearted chap. :lol:Quote:
Originally Posted by Conceited Ape
Evening Star
(1827)
'Twas noontide of summer,
And mid-time of night;
And stars, in their orbits,
Shone pale, thro' the light
Of the brighter, cold moon,
'Mid planets her slaves,
Herself in the Heavens,
Her beam on the waves.
I gazed awhile
On her cold smile;
Too cold- too cold for me-
There pass'd, as a shroud,
A fleecy cloud,
And I turned away to thee,
Proud Evening Star,
In thy glory afar,
And dearer thy beam shall be;
For joy to my heart
Is the proud part
Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
And more I admire
Thy distant fire,
Than that colder, lowly light.