Edgar Allan Poe

To One in Paradise

THOU wast that all to me, love,
    For which my soul did pine -- 
A green isle in the sea, love,
    A fountain and a shrine, 
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
    And all the flowers were mine.

Ah, Dream too bright to last!
    Ah starry Hope! that didst arise 
But to be overcast!
    A voice from out the future cries, 
"On! on!" -- but o'er the Past
    (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies 
Mute, motionless, aghast!

For, alas! alas! with me
    The light of Life is o'er! 
No more -- no more -- no more --
    (Such language holds the solomn sea 
To the sands upon the shore)
    Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree, 
Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances,
    And all my nightly dreams 
Are where thy grey eye glances,
    And where thy footstep gleams -- 
In what ethereal dances,
    By what eternal streams.

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