Edgar+Allan+Poe

=** Edgar Allan Poe **= Romance who loves to nod and sing:Rachel With drowsy head and folded wing:rachle Among the green leaves as they shake:rachle Far down within some shadowy lake:rachle To me a painted paroquet:rachle Hath been — a most familiar bird —:rachle Taught me my alphabet to say —:Rachle To lisp my very earliest word:HAley While in the wild wood I did lie:haley A child — with a most knowing eye.:haley

Of late, eternal Condor years:haley So shake the very air on high:haley With tumult, as they thunder by,:haley I hardly have had time for cares:haley Thro' gazing on th' unquiet sky!:bryanna And, when an hour with calmer wings:bryanna Its down upon my spirit flings —:bryanna That little time with lyre and rhyme:bryanna To while away — forbidden things!:bryanna My heart would feel to be a crime:bryanna Did it not tremble with the strings!:bryanna Retrieved from "[]" Hidden category: [|Subpages] =** Edgar Allan Poe: was born in Boston on 19 on January 1809. He died on October 7th in 1849. Poe lied about his age to get in the Army. He died because he got Tuberculosis. Poe's mom died and his dad abandoned him. He worked for a magazine and that was not very successful for him so he got fried. He maired his cousin at age 13 (she was 13 not him) and she died of a rare illness. He wrote a lot of short stories and some poems. When he was young he lived in a pretty wealthy family. In 1833 he was living in Baltimore. Also when he was young his parents were traveling actors. This means that he barely got to spend time with his family. His mom died in 1811 at a young age. When he grew up he became a wealthy Richmond merchant. Much of Poe's early fiction was written for "Tales of the Folio Club". Poe began his career as a poet, and composed or revived pomes thoughtout his career. Edgar wrote beutiful poems. Edgar wrote 50 published poems **** A Dream With in a Dream was his first poem. **= =Romance: who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet Hath been- a most familiar bird- Taught me my alphabet to say- To lisp my very earliest word While in the wild wood I did lie, A child- with a most knowing eye. Of late, eternal Condor years So shake the very Heaven on high With tumult as they thunder by, I have no time for idle cares Through gazing on the unquiet sky. And when an hour with calmer wings Its down upon my spirit flings- That little time with lyre and rhyme To while away- forbidden things! My heart would feel to be a crime Unless it trembled with the strings.= =That was one of the many poems that he wrote.= =Another poem poe wrote is= =The City In The Sea := =Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines and palaces and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) Resemble nothing that is ours. Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. No rays from the holy heaven come down On the long night-time of that town; But light from out the lurid sea Streams up the turrets silently— Gleams up the pinnacles far and free— Up domes—up spires—up kingly halls— Up fanes—up Babylon-like walls— Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers— Up many and many a marvellous shrine Whose wreathed friezes intertwine The viol, the violet, and the vine. Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. So blend the turrets and shadows there That all seem pendulous in air, While from a proud tower in the town Death looks gigantically down. There open fanes and gaping graves Yawn level with the luminous waves; But not the riches there that lie In each idol's diamond eye— Not the gaily-jewelled dead Tempt the waters from their bed; For no ripples curl, alas! Along that wilderness of glass— No swellings tell that winds may be Upon some far-off happier sea— No heavings hint that winds have been On seas less hideously serene. But lo, a stir is in the air! The wave—there is a movement there! As if the towers had thrust aside, In slightly sinking, the dull tide— As if their tops had feebly given A void within the filmy Heaven. The waves have now a redder glow— The hours are breathing faint and low— And when, amid no earthly moans, Down, down that town shall settle hence, Hell, rising from a thousand thrones, Shall do it reverence.= =this poem brings real insperation to people who love to read his poems. This poem is about Stegth and boldness to the table.=

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