Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness - for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.
The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne'er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.
The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!
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More Poems by Edgar Allan Poe
A Dream
A Dream Within A Dream
A Valentine
Alone
An Enigma
Annabel Lee
Bridal Ballad
Dreamland
Poe Dreams
Eldorado
Elizabeth Poe
Eulalie
Evening Star
Fairy-Land
Hymn
Imitation
Israfel
Lenore
Romance
Serenade
Song
Spirits Of The Dead
The Bells
The City In The Sea Poe
The Coliseum
The Conqueror Worm
The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour
The Haunted Palace
The Raven
The Sleeper
The Valley Of Unrest
To Helen
To My Mother
To One In Paradise
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Edgar Allan Poe Spirits of the Dead - Poem Lyrics - Edgar Allan Poe - Spirits of the Dead

