Poems of Poe (Poems 1847) Edgar Allen Poe Skies they were ashen and sober: The leaves they were crisped and sere The leaves they were withering and sere It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemoriAL YEAR: It was hard by the dim lake of auber, In the misty mid region of Weir: It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul_haunted woodland of weir. Here once,through an alley Titanic, Of cypress,I roamed with my soul Of cypress,with Psyche,my soul There were days when my heart was volcanic As the scoriac rivers that roll as the lavas that restlessly roll Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek, In the ultimate climes of the Pole That groan as they rolldown mount Yaanek In the realms of the Boreal Pole Our talk had been serious and sober, But our thoughts thet were paslied and sere Our memories were treacs in the yeaherous and sere For we knew not the month was October And we marked not the night of the year (Ah,night of all in the nights in the year!) We noted not the dim lake of Aht was senescent, uber, (Thought once we had journeyed down here) We remembered not the dank tarn of Auber, Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. And now ,as the night was sensecent, And star-dails pointed to morn As the start the end of our path a liquescent and nebulous lustre was born, Out of wich miraculous crescent ,\Distinct with its dublicate horn. And I said She is warmer than Dian:She rolls through an ether of signs h her She revels in a region os sighs She has seen that the tears are not dry on These cheeks,where the worm never dies,And has come past the stars of the lion,To point us the path of the skies To the letehean peace of the skies Come up,through the lair of the lion, With love in her luminous eyes But Psyche,uplifting her finger, said Sadly this star I mistrust Her pallor I strangely mistrust Ah,fly! Let us fly! for we must. In terror she spoke:letting sink her wings till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust. I replied This is nothing but dreaming,Let us on,by this tremulous light!Its Sybillic splendor is beaming With Hope and in Beauty to night See! it flickers up the sky through the night!Ah,we safely may trust to this gleaming,And be shure it will lead us aright We safely may trust to a gleaming That cannot bight,ut guide us ar,Since it flickers up to Heavin through the night Thus is pacified Psyshce and kissed her,And tempted out her gloom And conqured her scruples and gloom :And we stopped by the door of aa thomb:And I said what is writtin ,sweet sister,On the door of this legended tomb?”‘T is the vault of the lost Ulalume! Then my heart it grew ashen and sober As the leaves that were crisped and sere As the leaves that were withering and sere As the leaves that were withering and sere And I cried “‘It was surenly October On this very night of the last year,That I journeyed I jourenyed down there!That I brought a dreasd burden down here Ah,what demon has tempted me here?Well I know ,now this dim lake of Auber This misty mid region of Weir:Well I know ,now this dank tarn of Auber This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir 1847

was sensescente but guide us aright

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