13 Short Poems by Edgar Allan Poe

Be inspired by these short poems by Edward Allan Poe. Edward Allan Poe was born in 1809 in Maryland, USA and he died in 1849 but his poems are still read by many.

Poe's father drifted away from the traditions of the family, married an English actress, and went on the stage himself. Edgar Poe was born in a lodging house in Boston, where his parents were acting in the Federal Street Theater. His father died soon afterwards, and left his mother with three children to support. Two years after Edgar's birth she died of pneumonia in Richmond, Virginia, in great poverty and distress, in a room on the cellar floor of a theatrical lodging house.

Two of the Poe children were cared for by relatives in Baltimore, while Edgar was adopted by John Allan, a well-to-do tobacco merchant of Richmond. Mr. and Mrs. Allan were childless, and the boy, whose name was now changed to Edgar Allan Poe, was tenderly cared for and educated amid fortunate surroundings. At school he showed himself a lad of quick parts. He not only studied well, but he excelled in athletics, in debate, and in the writing of verses

Poe's literary work falls into three divisions " literary criticism, prose tales, and poetry. His early criticisms are marked by fairness, penetration, and luminous statement. During his later, embittered years, however, he allowed his personal dislikes and jealousies to warp his judgment

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Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe



Popular Short Poems by Edgar Allan Poe:

  1. A Dream
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    In visions of the dark night
    I have dreamed of joy departed-
    But a waking dream of life and light
    Hath left me broken-hearted.

    Ah! what is not a dream by day
    To him whose eyes are cast
    On things around him with a ray
    Turned back upon the past?

    That holy dream- that holy dream,
    While all the world were chiding,
    Hath cheered me as a lovely beam
    A lonely spirit guiding.

    What though that light, thro' storm and night,
    So trembled from afar-
    What could there be more purely bright
    In Truth's day-star?


  2. poems about life
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  3. To Helen
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    Helen, thy beauty is to me
    Like those Nicsean barks of yore
    That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
    The weary, wayworn wanderer bore
    To his own native shore.

    On desperate seas long wont to roam.
    Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face.
    Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
    To the glory that was Greece
    And the grandeur that was Rome.

    Lo! in yon brilliant window niche
    How statue-like I see thee stand,
    The agate lamp within thy hand!
    Ah, Psyche, from the regions which
    Are Holy Land!


  4. friendship poems
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  5. A Dream Within A Dream
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    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 a vision, or in none,
    Is it therefore the less gone?
    All that we see or seem
    Is but a dream within a dream.

    I stand amid the roar
    Of a surf-tormented shore,
    And I hold within my hand
    Grains of the golden sand -
    How few! yet how they creep
    Through my fingers to the deep,
    While I weep - while I weep!
    O God! can I not grasp
    Them with a tighter clasp?
    O God! can I not save
    One from the pitiless wave?
    Is all that we see or seem
    But a dream within a dream?


  6. Christian poems
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  7. Evening Star
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    'Twas noontide of summer,
    And mid-time of night;
    And stars, in their orbits,
    Shone pale, thro' the light
    Of the brighter, cold moon,
    'Mid planets her slaves,
    Herself in the Heavens,
    Her beam on the waves.
    I gazed awhile
    On her cold smile;
    Too cold- too cold for me -
    There pass'd, as a shroud,
    A fleecy cloud,
    And I turned away to thee,
    Proud Evening Star,
    In thy glory afar,
    And dearer thy beam shall be;
    For joy to my heart
    Is the proud part
    Thou bearest in Heaven at night,
    And more I admire
    Thy distant fire,
    Than that colder, lowly light.


  8. poems about the seasons
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  9. To The River
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    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, the prettiest of brooks
    Her worshipper resembles;
    For in my heart, as in thy stream,
    Her image deeply lies -
    The heart which trembles at the beam
    Of her soul-searching eyes.


  10. nature poems
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  11. The Happiest Day
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    The happiest day - the happiest hour
    My sear'd 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 pass.

    And, pride, what have I now with thee?
    Another brow may even inherit
    The venom thou hast pour'd on me
    Be still, my spirit!

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

    But were that hope of pride and power
    Now offer'd with the pain
    Even then I felt - that brightest hour
    I would not live again:

    For on its wing was dark alloy,
    And, as it flutter'd - fell
    An essence - powerful to destroy
    A soul that knew it well.


  12. poems about happiness
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  13. Imitation
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    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 of 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 worldly rest hath gone
    With a sigh as it passed on:
    I care not though it perish
    With a thought I then did cherish.


  14. poems of encouragement
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  15. Romance
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
    With drowsy head and folded wing,
    Among the green leaves as they shake
    Far down within some shadowy lake,
    To me a painted paroquet
    Hath been- a most familiar bird-
    Taught me my alphabet to say-
    To lisp my very earliest word
    While in the wild wood I did lie,
    A child- with a most knowing eye.

    Of late, eternal Condor years
    So shake the very Heaven on high
    With tumult as they thunder by,
    I have no time for idle cares
    Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
    And when an hour with calmer wings
    Its down upon my spirit flings-
    That little time with lyre and rhyme
    To while away- forbidden things!
    My heart would feel to be a crime
    Unless it trembled with the strings.


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  17. To One In Paradise
    Poet: 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 gray eye glances.
    And where thy footstep gleams.
    In what ethereal dances,
    By what eternal streams.


  18. heaven poems
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  19. A Valentine
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
    Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,
    Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies
    Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
    Search narrowly the lines! - they hold a treasure
    Divine - a talisman - an amulet
    That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure -
    The words - the syllables! Do not forget
    The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor!
    And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
    Which one might not undo without a sabre,
    If one could merely comprehend the plot.
    Unwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
    Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdu,
    Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
    Of poets, by poets - as the name is a poet's, too.
    Its letters, although naturally lying
    Like the knight Pinto - Mendez Ferdinando -
    Still form a synonym for Truth. Cease trying!
    You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.


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  21. A Verse From The Bells
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    Hear the mellow wedding bells,
    Golden bells!
    What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
    Through the balmy air of night
    How they ring out their delight!
    From the molten-golden notes,

    And all in tune,
    What a liquid ditty floats
    To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats
    On the moon!
    Oh, from out the sounding cells,
    What a gush of euphony voluminously wells!

    How it swells!
    How it dwells
    On the Future! how it tells
    Of the rapture that impels so
    To the swinging and the ringing
    Of the bells, bells, bells.
    Of the bells, bells, bells, bells.
    Bells, bells, bells -
    To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!


  22. wedding poems
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  23. The Valley of Unrest
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    Once it smiled a silent dell
    Where the people did not dwell;
    They had gone unto the wars,
    Trusting to the mild-eyed stars,
    Nightly, from their azure towers,
    To keep watch above the flowers,
    In the midst of which all day
    The red sun-light lazily lay.

    Now each visitor shall confess
    The sad valley's restlessness.
    Nothing there is motionless -
    Nothing save the airs that brood
    Over the magic solitude.
    Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees
    That palpitate like the chill seas
    Around the misty Hebrides!

    Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven
    That rustle through the unquiet Heaven
    Uneasily, from morn till even,
    Over the violets there that lie
    In myriad types of the human eye
    Over the lilies there that wave
    And weep above a nameless grave!
    They wave: - from out their fragrant tops
    Eternal dews come down in drops.
    They weep: - from off their delicate stems
    Perennial tears descend in gems.



  24. Serenade
    Poet: Edgar Allan Poe


    So sweet the hour, so calm the time,
    I feel it more than half a crime,
    When Nature sleeps and stars are mute,
    To mar the silence ev'n with lute.

    At rest on ocean's brilliant dyes
    An image of Elysium lies:
    Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven,
    Form in the deep another seven:

    Endymion nodding from above
    Sees in the sea a second love.
    Within the valleys dim and brown,
    And on the spectral mountain's crown,

    The wearied light is dying down,
    And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky
    Are redolent of sleep, as I
    Am redolent of thee and thine

    Enthralling love, my Adeline.
    But list, O list,- so soft and low
    Thy lover's voice tonight shall flow,
    That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem
    My words the music of a dream.

    Thus, while no single sound too rude
    Upon thy slumber shall intrude,
    Our thoughts, our souls - O God above!
    In every deed shall mingle, love.


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