Collection:
1829
Los espíritus de los muertos
More from Poet
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HEAR the sledges with the bells— Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight,—...
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In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace— Radiant palace—reared its head. In the monarch Thought’s dominion, It stood there; Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair. Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and...
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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. “’T is some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my...
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The Skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crispèd and sere, The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir: It was down by the dank...
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Thank Heaven! the crisis,— The danger is past, And the lingering illness Is over at last,— And the fever called “Living” Is conquered at last. Sadly, I know, I am shorn of my strength, And no muscle I move As I lie at full length,— But no matter!—I feel I am better at length. And I...