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​Bibliothèque d'Érik
​Erik's Library

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You see a book shelf filled with all sorts of books, just asking to be read, all you have to do is click on the book.

| Plays and Operas | Fiction/Poetry/philosophy  |
 | Victorian Slang |  Theatre | 
 | Theatre Architecture & Technology  |


Fiction/ Poetry
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Other stories
Ligeia
Eleonora
The Raven
Fall of the House of Usher
The Black Cat
The Muders in the Rue Morgue
The Tell-Tale Heart
The Devil in the Belfry
The Cask of Amontillado
The Pit and the Pendulum
Never Bet the Devil Your Head
Shadow
The Gold Bug
Some Words with a Mummy
The Sphinx
The Angel of the Odd
Poems
For Annie
Annabel Lee 
Alone
A Dream Within a Dream
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The Conqueror Worm
​The Haunted Palace
A Dream
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Spirits of the Dead
The Sleeper
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Dr. Faustus by Christopher Marlowe
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Je me (fâchez encore une fois)/ I will get angry again (Le Gaulois Edition, L’enveloppe magique)
Shakespeare
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The Song 'My Mother Bore Me' from Yeston and Koptit was inspired by the William Black Poem 'The Little Black Boy'
The Little Black Boy
My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
White as an angel is the English child:
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.

My mother taught me underneath a tree
And sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east began to say. 

Look on the rising sun: there God does live
And gives his light, and gives his heat away.
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning joy in the noonday.

And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.

For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear
The cloud will vanish we shall hear his voice.
Saying: come out from the grove my love & care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.

Thus did my mother say and kissed me,
And thus I say to little English boy.
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy: 

Ill shade him from the heat till he can bear,
To lean in joy upon our fathers knee.
And then I'll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him and he will then love me. 
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Poetry by Lord Bryon
My Soul Is Dark
​The Dream
And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair
Darkness
Fare Thee Well
Farewell! If Ever Fondest Prayer
I Would I Were a Careless Child
Prometheus
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Fragment Poem by Lord Byron that inspired John William Polidori
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The Vampyre by John William Polidori
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La danse des morts à Bâle de Jn. Holbein 1841-edition
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Dictionnaire infernal, 1863
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Notes from the Underground by Fyodor Dostoyevsky; translated
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Thank you whatyouwill

Victorian Slang


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1909

Theatre, Architecture and Technology
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Vol 1.
Gallica
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Vol. 2
Gallica
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1898 Edition
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1906 Edition 1
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1906 Edition 2
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Vol 1-6
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Suppléments
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Musurgia universalis Vol. I
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Musurgia universalis Vol II
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Plays and Operas

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Henrik Ibsen

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...un masque sous lequel on ne trouve pas le moindre bout de nez, une duperie comme un billet de banque de la Sainte-Farce. Autant lever un mannequin que ce rastaquouère en baudruche...
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