Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Dream-Land ~ Edgar Allen Poe

    By a route obscure and lonely,
    Haunted by ill angels only,
    Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
    On a black throne reigns upright,
    I have reached these lands but newly
    From an ultimate dim Thule --
    From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,
          Out of SPACE -- out of TIME.

    Bottomless vales and boundless floods,
    And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
    With forms that no man can discover
    For the dews that drip all over;
    Mountains toppling evermore
    Into seas without a shore;
    Seas that restlessly aspire,
    Surging, unto skies of fire;
    Lakes that endlessly outspread
    Their lone waters -- lone and dead, --
    Their still waters -- still and chilly
    With the snows of the lolling lily.

    By the lakes that thus outspread
    Their lone waters, lone and dead, --
    Their sad waters, sad and chilly
    With the snows of the lolling lily, --
    By the mountains -- near the river
    Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever, --
    By the grey woods, -- by the swamp
    Where the toad and the newt encamp, --
    By the dismal tarns and pools
            Where dwell the Ghouls, --
    By each spot the most unholy --
    In each nook most melancholy, --
    There the traveller meets aghast
    Sheeted Memories of the Past --
    Shrouded forms that start and sigh
    As they pass the wanderer by --
    White-robed forms of friends long given,
    In agony, to the Earth -- and Heaven.

    For the heart whose woes are legion
    'Tis a peaceful, soothing region --
    For the spirit that walks in shadow
    'Tis -- oh 'tis an Eldorado!
    But the traveller, travelling through it,
    May not -- dare not openly view it;
    Never its mysteries are exposed
    To the weak human eye unclosed;
    So wills its King, who hath forbid
    The uplifting of the fringed lid;
    And thus the sad Soul that here passes
    Beholds it but through darkened glasses.

    By a route obscure and lonely,
    Haunted by ill angels only,
    Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
    On a black throne reigns upright,
    I have wandered home but newly
    From this ultimate dim Thule.

4 comments:

AstarteAlison Moon said...

What a beautiful poem Barbara did you write it? You have a wonderful blog. If you would like to visit me I'm at http://www.astartemoonblog.com/, many blessings to you, Alison xx

Linda said...

What a great poem ....Poe could write for Game of Thrones...very magical & melancholy!! Thanks for sharing Barb...

XO

Sharon Harris said...

This is brilliant writing
and deliciously dark I feel
as if I am being lured to the
dark island.

One line in particular leads
me to believe I have entered
the mind of someone possessed.

"We are Legion" There are many
dark spirits who make up the
Legion of darkness.

I loved every stanza, could not
get enough. I am known for
writing uplifting poetry but
I like to dabble on the dark
side every now and again.

applause to the author

Sharon

Sharon Harris said...

and of course the author is Poe
I missed that at the top.