Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe

Jan. 19, 1809 - Oct 7, 1849

 

Last Lines of Edgar Allan Poe

A mystery of mysteries!A soul that knew it well.An Eden of that dim lake.And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.And laugh -- but smile no more.And love -- a simple duty.And then did we, the seven, start from our seats in horror, and stand trembling, and shuddering, and aghast: for the tones in the voice of the shadow were not the tones of any one being, but of a multitude of beings, and, varying in their cadences from syllable to syllable, fell duskily upon our ears in the well remembered and familiar accents of many thousand departed friends.Are Holy Land!But a dream within a dream?But waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!By what eternal streams.Clothing us in a robe of more than glory.From my lyre within the sky.From this ultimate dim Thule.His spirit is communing with an angel's.If you seek for Eldorado!In her tomb by the sounding sea.In race requiescat.In the tangles of Love's very hair?In Truth's day-star?Isola d'oro! Fior di Levante!It was the dead who groaned within!Just o'er that one bright island smile.May not be happy now.No foot of man), commend thyself to God!Of a demon in my view.Of her soul-searching eyes.Of the bawbles that it may.Of the dear names that lie concealed within 't.Of the eyes of my Annie.Perennial tears descend in gems.Shall be lifted -- nevermore!Shall do it reverence.Than that colder, lowly light.Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known.The Inquisition was in the hands of its enemies.The summer dream beneath the tamarind-tree?The world all love before thee.This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.To where the prospect terminates -- thee only.Unless it trembled with the strings.Upon their quivering wings.Venuses, unextinguished by the sun.Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown.While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.While I gazed, this fissure rapidly widened -- there came a fierce breath of the whirlwind -- the entire orb of the satellite burst at once upon my sight -- my brain reeled as I saw the mighty walls rushing asunder -- there was a long tumultuous shouting sound like the voice of a thousand waters -- and the deep and dank tarn at my feet closed sullenly and silently over the fragments of the House of Usher.Who am a passer-by.With sweet hopes of thee and thine!You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.