I
THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER
By Edgar Allan Poe
Son cœur est un luth suspendu;Sitôt qu'on le touche il résonne.
De Beranger.
During the whole of a dull, dark, and soundless day in the autumn of the year, when the clouds hung oppressively low in the heavens, I had been passing alone, on horseback, through a singularly dreary tract of country; and at length found myself, as the shades of the evening drew on, within...
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