Fairy-Land by Edgar Allan Poe
Dim vales—and shadowy floods—
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can’t discover
For the tears that drip all
over:
Huge moons there wax and wane—
Again—again—again—
Every moment of the night—
Forever changing places—
And they put out the
star-light
With the breath from their
pale faces.
About twelve by the moon-dial,
One more filmy than the rest
(A kind which, upon trial,
They have found to be the
best)
Comes down—still down—and down
With its centre on the crown
Of a mountain’s eminence,
While its wide circumference
In easy drapery falls
Over hamlets, over halls,
Wherever they may be—
O’er the strange woods—o’er
the sea—
Over spirits on the wing—
Over every drowsy thing—
And buries them up quite
In a labyrinth of light—
And then, how, deep! —O, deep,
Is the passion of their sleep.
In the morning they arise,
And their moony covering
Is soaring in the skies,
With the tempests as they
toss,
Like—almost any thing—
Or a yellow Albatross.
They use that moon no more
For the same end as before,
Videlicet, a tent—
Which I think extravagant:
Its atomies, however,
Into a shower dissever,
Of which those butterflies
Of Earth, who seek the skies,
And so come down again
(Never-contented things!)
Have brought a specimen
Upon their quivering wings.
JJC chef among magazine's top 10 pastry chefs
And two of my children have actually studied under him.
Cindy Figurelli of Lockport lived life to the fullest
She beat back cancer more than once, defeated odds, and inspired other cancer patients.
Wanted: names for baby swans at Woodlawn Memorial Park
Romeo and Juliet recently "gave birth" to the first pair of baby swans the park has seen in fifteen years. What to name them? Offer your suggestions for a chance to win a gift card.
Charity event to benefit Grundy County families
It's a pampering day for woman of all ages, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment