Advertisement
Not a member of Pastebin yet?
Sign Up,
it unlocks many cool features!
- Spirits of the Dead
- BY EDGAR ALLAN POE
- 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 look not 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 for ever.
- Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
- Now are visions ne’er to vanish;
- From thy spirit shall they pass
- No more—like dew-drop 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!
Advertisement
Add Comment
Please, Sign In to add comment
Advertisement