Edgar AllanPoe
The Haunted Palace
Written by: Edgar AllanPoe In the greenest of our valleys By good angels tenanted, Once a fair and stately palace- Radiant palace- reared its head. In the monarch Thought's dominion- It stood there! Never seraph spread a pinion Over fabric half so fair! Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow, (This- all this- was in the olden Time long ago,) And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away. Wanderers in that happy valley, Through two luminous windows, saw Spirits moving musically, To a lute's well-tuned law, Round about a throne where, sitting (Porphyrogene!) In state his glory well-befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen. And all with pearl and ruby glowing Was the fair palace door, Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, And sparkling evermore, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king. But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch's high estate. (Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed. And travellers, now, within that valley, Through the red-litten windows see Vast forms, that move fantastically To a discordant melody, While, like a ghastly rapid river, Through the pale door A hideous throng rush out forever And laugh- but smile no more. |
A Dream within a Dream
Written by: Edgar AllanPoeTake this kiss upon the brow And in parting from you now Thus much let me avow --- You are not wrong who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away. In a night or in a day In a vision or in none Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand --- How few! Yet how they creep Throngh my fingers to the deep While I weep --- while I weep! O God! Can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream. |
Imitation
Written by: Edgar AllanPoe A dark unfathomed tide Of interminable pride - A mystery, and a dream, Should my early life seem; I say that dream was fraught With a wild and waking thought Of beings that have been, Which my spirit hath not seen, Had I let them pass me by, With a dreaming eye! Let none of earth inherit That vision of my spirit; Those thoughts I would control, As a spell upon his soul: For that bright hope at last And that light time have past, And my worldly rest hath gone With a sigh as it passed on: I care not though it perish With a thought I then did cherish |