Edgar Allan Poe

(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)

Comments about Edgar Allan Poe

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  • A T (9/22/2012 2:17:00 AM)

    wow so many dislikes. i know he wasnt the nicest guy in the world but who are you? who are you to disrespect a persons legacy and life's achievement? you don't like what he has to say then don't read it. snobs.

    170 person liked.
    139 person did not like.
  • Rookie - 315 Points Juan Olivarez (5/18/2012 12:00:00 PM)

    There are two kinds of poets. Edgar Allen Poe, and everybody else. nuff said.

  • Rookie - 315 Points Cloe De Nlie (5/15/2012 10:02:00 AM)

    Poe is my fav poet he is soooooo cool

  • Rookie - 546 Points Sayeed Abubakar (5/14/2012 8:54:00 AM)

    Yet we read your poems and short stories from the farthest corner of the world and get surprised.

  • Rookie - 546 Points Sayeed Abubakar (5/14/2012 8:52:00 AM)

    Yet we read your poems and short stories from the farthest corner of the world and get surprised.

  • Rookie - 10 Points David Rain (5/4/2012 7:54:00 PM)

    Poe isn't even JUST a phenomenal poet, he's fantastic with his short stories and his wordings. My favorite of his many literary abilities his how well he describes things. He always has the best, creepiest, crawliest descriptions out of anything from anyone. I'd of loved to have seen what he and some other great horror writers (such as H. P.) could do together.

  • Rookie - 10 Points Nomthandazo Lukhele (5/2/2012 9:36:00 AM)

    wow! He is indeed a poet

  • Freshman - 1,572 Points Walterrean Salley (5/1/2012 12:34:00 PM)

    Edgar Allen Poe is among the best. One of the greatest poets ever. Powerful, enduring works.

  • Freshman - 1,572 Points Evan Haase (4/10/2012 9:39:00 PM)

    My favorite poet of all time
    without his poetry i would have never started writing

  • Freshman - 1,572 Points R.e.d. Xcxc (3/13/2012 9:37:00 PM)

    Thanks to him I learned that hardships plus a little bit of fanstay makes a epic story got a A+ in languege arts

To Helen - 1848

I saw thee once- once only- years ago:
I must not say how many- but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,

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