TO

1

The

bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
The wantonest singing birds

Are

lips - and all thy melody
Of lip-begotten words -

2

Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrin'd
Then desolately fall,
O! God! on my funereal mind
Like starlight on a pall -

3

Thy

heart - thy heart! - I wake and sigh,
And sleep to dream till day

Of truth that gold can never buy -
Of the trifles that it may.

This online collection of the Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe is part of the digital book collection at Book-Lover.com