To One in Paradise
Thou wast that all to me, love,
For which my soul did pine —
A green isle in the sea, love, —
A fountain and a shrine
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers
And all the flowers were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last!
Oh, starry Hope! that didst arise
But to be overcast!
A voice from out the Future cries
“On! on!” — but o’er the Past
(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast!
For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o’er!
No more — no more — no more
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar!
And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy dark eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams —
In what ethereal dances
By what eternal streams.
Edgar Allan Poe
Published in 1843 (Original poem appeared in “The Visionary” in 1834)
Image by Edmund Dulac
