The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 106

fro in the narrow alleys, and some
marching with the military strut so peculiar to them, around the general
promenade ground which encircles the rookery. In short, survey it as
we will, nothing can be more astonishing than the spirit of reflection
evinced by these feathered beings, and nothing surely can be better
calculated to elicit reflection in every well-regulated human intellect.

On the morning after our arrival in Christmas Harbour the chief mate,
Mr. Patterson, took the boats, and (although it was somewhat early in
the season) went in search of seal, leaving the captain and a young
relation of his on a point of barren land to the westward, they having
some business, whose nature I could not ascertain, to transact in the
interior of the island. Captain Guy took with him a bottle, in which was
a sealed letter, and made his way from the point on which he was set on
shore toward one of the highest peaks in the place. It is probable that
his design was to leave the letter on that height for some vessel
which he expected to come after him. As soon as we lost sight of him
we proceeded (Peters and myself being in the mate’s boat) on our cruise
around the coast, looking for seal. In this business we were occupied
about three weeks, examining with great care every nook and corner,
not only of Kerguelen’s Land, but of the several small islands in the
vicinity. Our labours, however, were not crowned with any important
success. We saw a great many fur seal, but they were exceedingly shy,
and with the greatest exertions, we could only procure three hundred
and fifty skins in all. Sea elephants were abundant, especially on the
western coast of the mainland, but of these we killed only twenty, and
this with great difficulty. On the smaller islands we discovered a
good many of the hair seal, but did not molest them. We returned to the
schooner on the eleventh, where we found Captain Guy and his nephew,
who gave a very bad account of the interior, representing it as one
of the most dreary and utterly barren countries in the world. They had
remained two nights on the island, owing to some misunderstanding, on
the part of the second mate, in regard to the sending a jollyboat from
the schooner to take them off.


ON the twelfth we made sail from Christmas Harbour retracing our way to
the westward, and leaving Marion’s Island, one of Crozet’s group, on the
larboard. We afterward passed Prince Edward’s Island, leaving it

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Text Comparison with Le Corbeau = The Raven

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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.
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»--Ici j'ouvris, grande, la porte: les ténèbres et rien de.
Page 2
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_Au large je poussai le volet; quand, avec maints enjouement et agitation d'ailes, entra un majestueux Corbeau des saints jours de jadis.
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»_ But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
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»_ 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! _Cela, je m'assis occupé à le conjecturer, mais n'adressant pas une syllabe à l'oiseau dont les yeux de feu brûlaient, maintenant, au fond de mon sein; cela et plus encore, je m'assis pour le deviner, ma tête reposant à l'aise sur la housse de velours des coussins que dévorait la lumière de la lampe, housse violette de velours dévoré par la lumière de la lampe qu'_Elle_ ne pressera plus, ah! jamais plus.
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lost Lenore!" Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore.
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Laisse inviolé mon abandon! quitte le buste au-dessus de ma porte! ôte ton bec de mon coeur et jette ta forme loin de ma porte!» Le Corbeau dit: «Jamais plus!»_ 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! _Et le Corbeau, sans voleter, siége encore--siége encore sur le buste pallide de Pallas, juste au-dessus de la porte de ma chambre, et ses yeux ont toute la semblance des yeux d'un démon qui rêve, et la lumière de la lampe, ruisselant sur lui, projette son ombre à terre: et mon âme, de cette ombre qui gît flottante à terre, ne s'élèvera--jamais plus!_.