Poe's Works

Eulalie I dwelt aloneIn a world of moan,And my soul was a stagnant tideTill the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride —Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.  And ah! less brightThe stars of the nightThan the eyes of the radiant girl,And never a flakeTheir lustre can makeOf the vapor and gold and pearlCan vie with the sweet young Eulalie's most unregarded curl —Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless curl.  Now Doubt — now PainCome never again,For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,And all day longShines bright and ...

Elizabeth Elizabeth — it surely is most fit(Logic and common usage so commanding)In thy own book that first thy name be writ,Zeno and other sages notwithstanding:And I have other reasons for so doingBesides my innate love of contradiction:Each poet — if a poet — in pursuingThe muses thro’ their bowers of Truth or Fiction,Has studied very little of his part,Read nothing, written less — in short's a foolEndued with neither soul, nor sense, nor art,Being ignorant of one important rule,Employed in even the theses of the school —Called —— I forget the heathenish ...

Eldorado Gaily bedight,A gallant knight,In sunshine and in shadow,Had journeyed long,Singing a song,In search of Eldorado.  But he grew old —This knight so bold —And o’er his heart a shadowFell, as he foundNo spot of groundThat looked like Eldorado.  And, as his strengthFailed him at length,He met a pilgrim shadow —“Shadow,” said he,“Where can it be —This land of Eldorado?”  “Over the MountainsOf the Moon,Down the Valley of the Shadow,Ride, boldly ride,”The shade replied, —“If you seek for Eldorado!" Edgar Allan Poe Originally Published in 1849 Image by W. Heath ...

Dreams Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!My spirit not awak’ning, till the beamOf an Eternity should bring the morrow.Yes! tho’ that long dream were of hopeless sorrow.’Twere better than the cold realityOf waking life, to him whose heart must be,And hath been still, upon the lovely earth,A chaos of deep passion, from his birth.But should it be — that dream eternallyContinuing — as dreams have been to meIn my young boyhood — should it thus be giv’n’Twere folly still to hope for higher Heav’n.For I have revell’d when the sun was brightIn the summer sky, in dreams of living light.And ...