Book Lover


by Edgar Allan Poe
skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere --
The leaves they were withering and sere;

It was night in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year:
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir: --
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

Here once, through an alley Titanic,
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul --
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.
There were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll --
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek,
In the ultimate climes of the Pole --
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek
In the realms of the Boreal Pole.

talk had been serious and sober,
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere --
Our memories were treacherous and sere;
we knew not the month was October,
And we marked not the night of the year --
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!)

We noted not the dim lake of Auber,
(Though once we had journeyed down here)
We remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

now, as the night was senescent,
And star-dials pointed to morn --
As the star-dials hinted of morn --

At the end of our path a liquescent
And nebulous lustre was born,

of which a miraculous crescent
Arose with a duplicate horn --

Astarte's bediamonded crescent,
Distinct with its duplicate horn.

I said -- "She is warmer than Dian:
She rolls through an ether of sighs --
She revels in a region of sighs.
has seen that the tears are not dry on
These cheeks, where the worm never dies,
has come past the stars of the Lion,
To point us the path to the skies --
To the Lethean peace of the skies --

Come up, in despite of the Lion,
To shine on us with her bright eyes --
Come up, through the lair of the Lion,
With love in her luminous eyes."

Psyche, uplifting her finger,
Said -- "Sadly this star I mistrust --
Her pallor I strangely mistrust --
hasten! -- ah, let us not linger!
Ah, fly! -- let us fly! -- for we must."

In terror she spoke; letting sink her
Wings till they trailed in the dust --
In agony sobbed, letting sink her
Plumes till they trailed in the dust --
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied -- "This is nothing but dreaming.
Let us on, by this tremulous light!
Let us bathe in this crystalline light!

Sybillic splendor is beaming
With Hope and in Beauty to-night --
See! -- it flickers up the sky through the night!
we safely may trust to its gleaming,
And be sure it will lead us aright --

We safely may trust to a gleaming
That cannot but guide us aright,
Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,
And tempted her out of her gloom --
And conquered her scruples and gloom;

we passed to the end of the vista --
But were stopped by the door of a tomb --
By the door of a legended tomb: --
I said -- "What is written, sweet sister,
On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied -- "Ulalume -- Ulalume --
'T is the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober
As the leaves that were crisped and sere --
As the leaves that were withering and sere --

I cried -- "It was surely October
On this very night of last year,
That I journeyed -- I journeyed down here! --
That I brought a dread burden down here --
On this night, of all nights in the year,
Ah, what demon has tempted me here?

Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber --
This misty mid region of Weir: --
Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber --
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."

More Great Books and Authors to Explore!
Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe
William Hope Hodgson
William Hope Hodgson
Secret Hiding Places
Secret Hiding Places
Egyptian Book of the Dead
Egyptian Book of the Dead



Articles About Books and Authors that Matter

The Fascinating Story of Medieval Libraries

The Lost Art of Embroidered Books

Holbein's Dance of Death: A Cheerily Macabre World View

Quotes About Books: Writers Writing About Books and the Art of Reading


Micro Nations: Sometimes the Smallest Countries Have the Biggest Dreams

George Cruikshank: A Moralistic Victorian Crusader With a Secret Life

Marguerite de Navarre: Queen, Feminist and Author of Raunchy Medieval Lit

The Weird and Wonderful Illustrations of Gustave Dore

World War One Propaganda Posters has an eclectic collection of weird and unusual books online. Site Map | XML | RSS Feed | What's New | About Us | Privacy | Contact Us

Other Sites:  ·  Dante's Inferno  ·  · Canterbury Tales  ·  · ·