Edgar Allan
Poe
1970-01-01 - 1970-01-01
Poe Edgar Allan
To F---
Beloved! amid the earnest woes
That crowd aroud my earthly path-
(Dear path, alas! where grows
Not even one lonely rose)-
My soul at least a solace hath
In dreams of thee, and therein knows
An Eden of bland repose.
And thusthy memory is to me
Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea-
Some ocean throbbing far and free
With storms-but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually
Just o'er that one bright island smile
That crowd aroud my earthly path-
(Dear path, alas! where grows
Not even one lonely rose)-
My soul at least a solace hath
In dreams of thee, and therein knows
An Eden of bland repose.
And thusthy memory is to me
Like some enchanted far-off isle
In some tumultuous sea-
Some ocean throbbing far and free
With storms-but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually
Just o'er that one bright island smile