The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 63

at a most critical
moment for Augustus, and throwing himself upon Jones, pinned him to the
floor in an instant. My friend, however, was now too much injured to
render us any aid whatever, and I was so encumbered with my disguise
that I could do but little. The dog would not leave his hold upon the
throat of Jones--Peters, nevertheless, was far more than a match for the
two men who remained, and would, no doubt, have dispatched them sooner,
had it not been for the narrow space in which he had to act, and the
tremendous lurches of the vessel. Presently he was enabled to get hold
of a heavy stool, several of which lay about the floor. With this he
beat out the brains of Greely as he was in the act of discharging a
musket at me, and immediately afterward a roll of the brig throwing
him in contact with Hicks, he seized him by the throat, and, by dint of
sheer strength, strangled him instantaneously. Thus, in far less time
than I have taken to tell it, we found ourselves masters of the brig.

The only person of our opponents who was left alive was Richard Parker.
This man, it will be remembered, I had knocked down with a blow from the
pump-handle at the commencement of the attack. He now lay motionless by
the door of the shattered stateroom; but, upon Peters touching him with
his foot, he spoke, and entreated for mercy. His head was only slightly
cut, and otherwise he had received no injury, having been merely stunned
by the blow. He now got up, and, for the present, we secured his hands
behind his back. The dog was still growling over Jones; but, upon
examination, we found him completely dead, the blood issuing in a stream
from a deep wound in the throat, inflicted, no doubt, by the sharp teeth
of the animal.

It was now about one o’clock in the morning, and the wind was still
blowing tremendously. The brig evidently laboured much more than usual,
and it became absolutely necessary that something should be done with a
view of easing her in some measure. At almost every roll to leeward
she shipped a sea, several of which came partially down into the cabin
during our scuffle, the hatchway having been left open by myself when I
descended. The entire range of bulwarks to larboard had been swept away,
as well as the caboose, together with the jollyboat from the counter.
The creaking and working of the mainmast, too, gave indication that it
was nearly

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Text Comparison with The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe Including Essays on Poetry

Page 11
What happened to the young poet, and how he contrived to exist for the next year or so, is a mystery still unsolved.
Page 15
In the correspondence which ensued in 'Graham's Magazine' and other publications, Poe was universally acknowledged to have proved his case, so far as his own personal ability to unriddle such mysteries was concerned.
Page 18
In January, 1846, Virginia Poe died; and for some time after her death the poet remained in an apathetic stupor, and, indeed, it may be truly said that never again did his mental faculties appear to regain their.
Page 32
" And, veritably, Sol is right enough.
Page 46
* * * * * 14.
Page 49
what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams! Alas! for that accursed time They bore thee o'er the billow, From love to titled age and crime, And an unholy pillow! From me, and from our misty clime, Where weeps the silver willow! 1835 * * * * * THE COLISEUM.
Page 65
.
Page 89
her betrothed.
Page 94
This, according to _your_ idea and _mine_ of poetry, I feel to be false--the less poetical the critic, the.
Page 104
Which dreamy poets name "the music of the sphere.
Page 126
_I have been_ happy, though in a dream.
Page 136
rain in Autumn On the dead leaves, cold and fast.
Page 137
" Whilst Edgar Poe was editor of the 'Broadway Journal', some lines "To Isadore" appeared therein, and, like several of his known pieces, bore no signature.
Page 146
And while I thus spoke, did there not cross your mind some thought of the _physical power of words_? Is not every word an impulse on the air? 'Oinos'.
Page 154
The perfume in my nostrils died away.
Page 161
such an elevation of the animal spirits as we had latterly experienced.
Page 174
Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day.
Page 178
Oh! what was love made for, if 'tis not the same Through joy and through torment, through glory and shame? I know not, I ask not, if guilt's in that heart, I but know that I love thee, whatever thou art.
Page 179
call'd me thy Angel in moments of bliss, And thy Angel I'll be,'mid the horrors of this,-- Through the furnace, unshrinking, thy steps to pursue, And shield thee, and save thee,--or perish there too! It has been the fashion of late days to deny Moore Imagination, while granting him Fancy--a distinction originating with Coleridge--than whom no man more fully comprehended the great powers of Moore.
Page 191
"And when," I said, "is this most melancholy of topics most poetical?" From what I have already explained at some length, the answer here also is obvious--"When it most closely allies itself to _Beauty_; the death, then, of a beautiful woman is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world, and equally is it beyond doubt that the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover.