Spirits Of The Dead [By Edgar Allan Poe]

Spirits of the Dead

by Edgar Allan Poe
(published 1829)

Thy soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the grey tombstone
Not one, of all the crowd,
to pry into thine hour of secrecy
Be silent in that solitude
which is not loneliness for then
the spirits of the dead who stood
in life before thee are again
in death around thee and their will
shall then overshadow thee be still.

For the night tho’ clear shall frown
and the stars shall look not down,
from their high thrones in the Heaven,
with light like Hope to mortals given
but their red orbs, without beam,
to thy weariness shall seem
as a burning and a fever
which would cling to thee for ever

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish
now are visions ne’er to vanish
from thy spirit shall they pass
no more like dew-drop from the grass

The breeze the breath of God is still
and the mist upon the hill
shadowy yet unbroken,
is a symbol and a token
how it hangs upon the trees,
a mystery of mysteries!


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