We now demand the light artillery of the intellect; we need the curt, the condensed, the pointed, the readily diffused - in place of the verbose, the detailed, the voluminous, the inaccessible. On the other hand, the lightness of the artillery should not degenerate into pop-gunnery - by which term we may designate the character of the greater portion of the newspaper press - their sole legitimate object being the discussion of ephemeral matters in an ephemeral manner.

A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.

Let us dismiss, as irrelevant to the poem per se, the circumstance ... which, in the first place, gave rise to the intention of composing a poem that should suit at once the popular and the critical taste.

There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion.

We had always dwelled together, beneath a tropical sun, in the Valley of the Many Colored Grass.

Scorching my seared heart with a pain, not hell shall make me fear again.

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!