Photos by: Rachel Hudson
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.
Ah, dream too bright to last! Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise But to be overcast! A voice from out the Future cries, "On! on!"- but o'er the Past (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies Mute, motionless, aghast!
For, alas! alas! me The light of Life is o'er! "No more- no more- no more-" (Such language holds the solemn sea To the sands upon the shore) Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree Or the stricken eagle soar!
And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams Are where thy grey eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams- In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams.
- To One In Paradise, Edgar Allan Poe