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Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849) was an American writer, editor, and literary critic. Poe is best known for his poetry and short stories, particularly his tales of mystery and the macabre. He is widely regarded as a central figure of Romanticism in the United States and as a central figure in American literature as a whole. Poe is generally considered the inventor of the detective fiction genre and is further credited with contributing to the emerging genre of science fiction. He was the first well-known American writer to try to earn a living through writing alone, resulting in a financially difficult life and career. His most famous works include the short stories "The Tell-Tale Heart," The Fall of the House of Usher," "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," and "Ligeia," and the poems "The Raven," "The Conqueror Worm," "Annabel Lee," and "The Bells."

I. Hear the sledges with the bells— Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, In the icy air of night! While the stars that oversprinkle All the heavens, seem to twinkle With a crystalline delight; Keeping time, time, time, In a...

From childhood’s hour I have not been As others were—I have not seen As others saw—I could not bring My passions from a common spring— From the same source I have not taken My sorrow—I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone— And...

Fill with mingled cream and amber, I will drain that glass again. Such hilarious visions clamber Through the chamber of my brain — Quaintest thoughts — queerest fancies Come to life and fade away; What care I how time advances? I am drinking ale today.

Editor's Note: The following film is a 13-minute adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's short story, "Ligeia." As the creators of this film write: The short story, “Ligeia,” by Edgar Allan Poe, suggests that not only is life sustainable through the power of one's will, but a strong...
2 1877

Lo! ’t is a gala night Within the lonesome latter years! An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theatre, to see A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form...

  Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore— While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. “’Tis some visitor,”...

LO! Death hath rear'd himself a throne In a strange city, all alone, Far down within the dim west — Where the good, and the bad, and the worst, and the best, Have gone to their eternal rest. There shrines, and palaces, and...

The happiest day—the happiest hour My seared and blighted heart hath known, The highest hope of pride and power, I feel hath flown. Of power! said I? yes! such I ween; But they have vanish'd long, alas! The visions of my youth have been— But let them...

Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow— You are not wrong, who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In...

Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow Of crystal, wandering water, Thou art an emblem of the glow Of beauty, the unhidden heart, The playful maziness of art In old Alberto's daughter; But when within thy wave she looks, Which glistens then, and trembles, Why, then,...