Edgar Allan Poe
POE
Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring --
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent, or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder, and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring --
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I lov'd -- I lov'd alone --
Then -- in my childhood -- in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent, or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder, and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --
Bells II
Hear the mellow wedding bells
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells !
Through the balmy air of night
How they ring out their delight !
From the molten-golden notes,
And all in tune,
What a liquid ditty floats
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
On the moon !
Oh, from out the sounding cells,
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells !
How it swells !
How it dwells
On the Future ! how it tells
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells --
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells !
Biography
Edgar Allan Poe was born in Boston 1809, his mother died when he was two. He lived with his mother so he was adopted after her death. His poems were fist published in 1831 in New York. But many of his poems were rejected and he struggled financially. But he found a job as an editor for a magazine because he wanted his own. And then he won hundreds of dollars for " The Gold Bug". He died when he was 40 and no one really knows how he died...
facts
- was sent to England for six years when he was 5
- Poe joined the arm before he started writing
- in New York he had no friends or job
- he married his 13 year old cousin when he was 27
- he joined the war at the age of 18
the happiest day
The happiest day the happiest hour
My star's and blighted heart hath known
The highest hope of pride and power
I feel hath flown
Of power!said I ? yes ! Such I seem;
But they have vanished long alas!
The visions of my youth have been-
But let them pass
And, pride, what have I now with thee
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast poured on me
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see have ever seen
The brightest glance of pride and power
I feel- have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offered with the pain
Even then I felt -- that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on it's wing was dark alloy,
And, as it fluttered-- fell
An essence--powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.