Bon-Bon — A Tale. “Notre Gulliver” — dit le Lord Bolingbroke — “a de telles fables.” — Voltaire. That Pierre Bon-Bon was a Restaurateur of uncommon qualifications, no man who...
The Black Cat For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen, I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect...
The Angel of the Odd — An Extravaganza It was a chilly November afternoon. I had just consummated an unusually hearty dinner, of which the dyspeptic truffe formed not the...
It is not improbable that a few farther steps in phrenological science will lead to a belief in the existence, if not to the actual discovery and location of an organ of analysis. If this power (which...
At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.
An opiate vapour, dewy, dim,
Exhales from out her golden rim,
And, softly dripping, drop by drop,
Upon the quiet...
Of course I shall not pretend to consider it any matter for wonder, that the extraordinary case of M. Valdemar has excited discussion. It would have been a miracle had it not — especially under the...
And the will therein lieth, which dieth not. Who knoweth the mysteries of the will, with its vigor. For God is but a great will pervading all things by nature of its intentness. Man doth not yield...
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were — I have not seen
As others saw — I could not bring
My passions from a common spring —
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow — I could...
