TO ONE IN PARADISE. By Edgar Allan Poe
THOU wast all that to me, love,
For which my soul did pine --
A green isle in the sea, love,
A fountain and a shrine,
All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers,
And all the flowers were mine.
Ah, dream too bright to last !
Ah, starry Hope ! that didst arise
But to be overcast !
A voice from out the Future cries,
"On ! on !" -- but o'er the Past
(Dim gulf !) my spirit hovering lies
Mute, motionless, aghast !
For, alas ! alas ! with me
The light of Life is o'er !
"No more -- no more -- no more --"
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree,
Or the stricken eagle soar !
And all my days are trances,
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy dark eye glances,
And where thy footstep gleams --
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams.