. “Here then, at least,” I shrieked aloud, “can I never — can I never be mistaken — these are the full, and the black, and the wild eyes — of my lost love — of the lady — of the LADY LIGEIA.”
oop
. “Here then, at least,” I shrieked aloud, “can I never — can I never be mistaken — these are the full, and the black, and the wild eyes — of my lost love — of the lady — of the LADY LIGEIA.”
oop
She swallowed the wine unhesitatingly, and I forbore to speak to her
Ok so he was high on opium and poisoned her
phantasmagoric
Ok bold to use phantasmagoric multiple times
O God!” half shrieked Ligeia, leaping to her feet and extending her arms aloft with a spasmodic movement, as I made an end of these lines — “O God! O Divine Father!
how very yellow wallpaper
Out — out are the lights — out all!
damn spot
strange, oh strangest mystery of all!)
loves her damn eyes
me twin stars of Leda, and I to them devoutest of astrologer
Youre a werewolfffff and im the full moon.
maiden ever equalled her. It was the radiance of an opium-dream — an airy and spirit-lifting vision more wildly divine than the phantasies which hovered about the slumbering souls of the daughters of Delos.
A lot going on here. blazon, metaphor
hat I bring before mine eyes in fancy the image of her who is no more
poe always makes the wife dead