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Text: Edgar Allan Poe, "To One in Paradise" (J), "Herring" manuscript, about 1841





Thou wast all that 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.

Now, all my hours are trances,
    And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy blue eye glances
    And where thy footstep gleams
In what ethereal dances
    By what eternal streams.

EDGAR A. POE









Notes:

This abridged version of the poem was written in the album of Poe's cousin, Elizabeth Herring.







 
[S:1 - MS, about 1841 (fac, 1926)] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Poems - To One in Paradise (J)