Edgar Allan Poe Poems
To One In Paradise Thou wast that all to me, love,
For which my soul did pine-A green isle in the sea, love,
To My Mother Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,Can find, among their burning terms of love,
To Marie Louise (shew) (ii) Not long ago, the writer of these lines,
In the mad pride of intellectuality,Maintained “the power of words”-denied that ever
To Marie Louise (shew) Of all who hail thy presence as the morning-
Of all to whom thine absence is the night-The blotting utterly from out high heaven
To Isadore I.
To Helen (ii) Helen, thy beauty is to me
Like those Nicean barks of yore,That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
To Helen I saw thee once-once only-years ago:
I must not say how many-but not many.It was a July midnight; and from out
To Frances S. Osgood Thou wouldst be loved?-then let thy heart
From its present pathway part not;Being everything which now thou art,
To F— Beloved! amid the earnest woes
That crowd around my earthly path-(Drear path, alas! where grows
To—— (ii) The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
The wantonest singing birds,
To—— I heed not that my earthly lot
Hath-little of Earth in it-That years of love have been forgot
The Village Street In these rapid, restless shadows,
Once I walked at eventide,When a gentle, silent maiden,
The Valley Of Unrest Once it smiled a silent dell
Where the people did not dwell;They had gone unto the wars,
The Sleeper At midnight, in the month of June,
I stand beneath the mystic moon.An opiate vapor, dewy, dim,
The Raven Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
The Power Of Words ‘Oinos.'
The Lake In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spotThe which I could not love the less-
The Island Of The Fay “Nullus enim locus sine genio est.”
The Haunted Palace In the greenest of our valleys
By good angels tenanted,Once a fair and stately palace-
The Happiest Day I.
The Forest Reverie 'Tis said that when
The hands of men Tamed this primeval wood,
The Conversation Of Eiros And Charmion I will bring fire to thee.
The Conqueror Worm Lo! 'tis a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
The Colloquy Of Monos And Una [Greek: Mellonta sauta']
The Coliseum Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary
Of lofty contemplation left to TimeBy buried centuries of pomp and power!
The City In The Sea Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying aloneFar down within the dim West,
The Bells I.
Tamerlane Kind solace in a dying hour!
Such, father, is not (now) my theme-I will not madly deem that power
Spirits Of The Dead Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstoneNot one, of all the crowd, to pry
Sonnet—to Science Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.Why preyest thou thus upon the poet's heart,
Song I saw thee on thy bridal day-
When a burning blush came o'er thee,Though happiness around thee lay,
Silence.—a Fable The mountain pinnacles slumber; valleys, crags, and caves
Silence There are some qualities-some incorporate things,
That have a double life, which thus is madeA type of that twin entity which springs
Shadow.—a Parable Yea! though I walk through the valley of the
Scenes From “politian.” AN UNPUBLISHED DRAMA.
Romance Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,Among the green leaves as they shake
Lenore Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!
Let the bell toll!-a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river.And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?-weep now or never more!
Israfel In Heaven a spirit doth dwell
“Whose heart-strings are a lute;”None sing so wildly well
In Youth I Have Known One I.
Imitation A dark unfathomed tide
Of interminable pride-A mystery, and a dream,
Hymn To Aristogeiton And Harmodius I.
Hymn At morn-at noon-at twilight dim-
Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!In joy and wo-in good and ill-
For Annie Thank Heaven! the crisis-
The danger is past,And the lingering illness
Fairyland Dim vales-and shadowy floods-
And cloudy-looking woods,Whose forms we can't discover
Evening Star 'Twas noontide of summer,
And midtime of night,And stars, in their orbits,
Eulalie I dwelt alone
In a world of moan, And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Eldorado Gaily bedight,
A gallant knight,In sunshine and in shadow,
Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beamOf an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Dreamland By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
The Bridal Ballad The ring is on my hand,
And the wreath is on my brow;Satins and jewels grand
Total 109 poems written by Edgar Allan Poe
Poem of the day
All The Hills And Vales Along by Charles Hamilton Sorley
All the hills and vales along
Earth is bursting into song,
And the singers are the chaps
Who are going to die perhaps.
O sing, marching men,
Till the valleys ring again.
Give your gladness to earth's keeping,
So be glad, when you are sleeping.
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