The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe. Эдгар Аллан По
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Название: The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe

Автор: Эдгар Аллан По

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

Серия:

isbn: 4064066391805

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      To the River

       Table of Contents

      Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow

       Of crystal, wandering water,

       Thou art an emblem of the glow

       Of beauty—the unhidden heart—

       The playful maziness of art

       In old Alberto's daughter;

       But when within thy wave she looks—

       Which glistens then, and trembles—

       Why, then, the prettiest of brooks

       Her worshipper resembles;

       For in his heart, as in thy stream,

       Her image deeply lies—

       His heart which trembles at the beam

       Of her soul-searching eyes.

      Song

       Table of Contents

      I saw thee on thy bridal day—

       When a burning blush came o'er thee,

       Though happiness around thee lay,

       The world all love before thee:

       And in thine eye a kindling light

       (Whatever it might be)

       Was all on Earth my aching sight

       Of Loveliness could see.

       That blush, perhaps, was maiden shame—

       As such it well may pass—

       Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame

       In the breast of him, alas!

       Who saw thee on that bridal day,

       When that deep blush would come o'er thee, Though happiness around thee lay, The world all love before thee.

      Spirits of the Dead

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      Thy soul shall find itself alone

       'Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone

       Not one, of all the crowd, to pry

       Into thine hour of secrecy.

       Be silent in that solitude

       Which is not loneliness—for then

       The spirits of the dead who stood

       In life before thee are again

       In death around thee—and their will

       Shall overshadow thee: be still.

       The night—tho' clear—shall frown—

       And the stars shall not look down

       From their high thrones in the Heaven,

       With light like Hope to mortals given—

       But their red orbs, without beam,

       To thy weariness shall seem

       As a burning and a fever

       Which would cling to thee forever.

       Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish—

       Now are visions ne'er to vanish—

       From thy spirit shall they pass

       No more—like dew-drops from the grass.

       The breeze—the breath of God—is still—

       And the mist upon the hill

       Shadowy—shadowy—yet unbroken,

       Is a symbol and a token—

       How it hangs upon the trees,

       A mystery of mysteries!

      A Dream

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      In visions of the dark night

       I have dreamed of joy departed—

       But a waking dream of life and light

       Hath left me broken-hearted.

       Ah! what is not a dream by day

       To him whose eyes are cast

       On things around him with a ray

       Turned back upon the past?

       That holy dream—that holy dream,

       While all the world were chiding,

       Hath cheered me as a lovely beam,

       A lonely spirit guiding.

       What though that light, thro' storm and night,

       So trembled from afar—

       What could there be more purely bright

       In Truth's day star?

      Romance

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      Romance, who loves to nod and sing,

       With drowsy head and folded wing,

       Among the green leaves as they shake

       Far down within some shadowy lake,

       To me a painted paroquet

       Hath been—a most familiar bird—

       Taught me my alphabet to say—

       To lisp my very earliest word

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