Text: Edgar Allan Poe (ed. John H. Ingram), “To ----,” The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, Edinburgh: Adam and Charles Black, vol. III, 1875, p. 84


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[page 84, continued:]

TO ——.

THE bowers whereat, in dreams, I see

The wantonest singing birds,

Are lips — and all thy melody

Of lip-begotten words —

Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined

Then desolately fall,

O God! on my funereal mind

Like starlight on a pall —

Thy heart — thy heart! — I wake and sigh,

And sleep to dream till day

Of truth that gold can never buy —

Of the baubles that it may.


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Notes:

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[S:0 - JHI, 1875] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - A Poe Bookshelf - To ---- (J. H. Ingram, 1875)