Poetry and Quotations

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To -- (1830)

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 the truth that gold can never buy-
  Of the baubles that it may. 

Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

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