The Lake
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by Edgar Allen Poe
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less--
So lovely was the loneliness,
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound
And the tall pines that towered around.
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody--
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.
Yet, that terror was not fright
But a tremulous delight--
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define--
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.
Death was in that poisonous wave
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining--
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake. -
I've always enjoyed Edgar Allan Poe's works! There's always that dark melancholic feel to his works that goes down very well with me.........
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U'll like this as well...Originally posted by :I've always enjoyed Edgar Allan Poe's works! There's always that dark melancholic feel to his works that goes down very well with me.........
A Dream within a Dream
by Edgar Allen Poe
Take 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 golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?