Imitation

  A dark unfathomed tide
  Of interminable pride--
  A mystery, and a dream,
  Should my early life seem;
  I say that dream was fraught
  With a wild and waking thought
  Of beings that have been,
  Which my spirit hath not seen,
  Had I let them pass me by,
  With a dreaming eye!
  Let none of earth inherit
  That vision on my spirit;
  Those thoughts I would control,
  As a spell upon his soul:
  For that bright hope at last
  And that light time have past,
  And my wordly rest hath gone
  With a sigh as it passed on:
  I care not though it perish
  With a thought I then did cherish.


1827.





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"THE HAPPIEST DAY."


     I.       The happiest day--the happiest hour
                My seared and blighted heart hath known,
              The highest hope of pride and power,
                I feel hath flown.


     II.      Of power! said I? Yes! such I ween
                But they have vanished long, alas!
              The visions of my youth have been--
                But let them pass.


     III.     And pride, what have I now with thee?
                Another brow may ev'n inherit
              The venom thou hast poured on me--
                Be still my spirit!


     IV.      The happiest day--the happiest hour
                Mine eyes shall see--have ever seen
              The brightest glance of pride and power
                I feel have been:


     V.       But were that hope of pride and power
                Now offered with the pain
              Ev'n _then_ I felt--that brightest hour
                I would not live again:

     VI.      For on its wing was dark alloy
                And as it fluttered--fell
              An essence--powerful to destroy
                A soul that knew it well.


1827.





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Translation from the Greek.

        Edgar Allan Poe