Edgar Allan Poe

(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)

Edgar Allan Poe Poems

1. Ulalume 11/12/2015
2. To Isadore 1/19/2012
3. The City Of Sin 8/10/2015
4. The Bells - A Collaboration 3/26/2010
5. To Marie Louise (Shew) 3/26/2010
6. The Village Street 1/19/2012
7. Impromptu - To Kate Carol 3/25/2010
8. To M-- 12/31/2002
9. The Divine Right Of Kings 3/26/2010
10. To -- -- 12/31/2002
11. Stanzas 12/31/2002
12. To M.L.S. 12/31/2002
13. Sonnet- To Science 12/31/2002
14. To -- 12/31/2002
15. Sonnet- To Zante 12/31/2002
16. Epigram For Wall Street 3/25/2010
17. To F-- 12/31/2002
18. In Youth I Have Known One 1/1/2004
19. Sancta Maria 1/3/2003
20. Hymn To Aristogeiton And Harmodius 1/3/2003
21. Israfel 12/31/2002
22. The Forest Reverie 1/1/2004
23. To F--S S. O--D 12/31/2002
24. To One Departed 1/3/2003
25. Hymn 12/31/2002
26. Tamerlane 12/31/2002
27. Song 12/31/2002
28. To Helen - 1848 1/1/2004
29. To -- -- --. Ulalume: A Ballad 12/31/2002
30. Enigma 3/25/2010
31. In The Greenest Of Our Valleys 1/1/2004
32. To One In Paradise 12/31/2002
33. An Acrostic 3/25/2010
34. To The River -- 12/31/2002
35. Sonnet- Silence 12/31/2002
36. Serenade 12/31/2002
37. The Lake 12/31/2002
38. The Valley Of Unrest 12/31/2002
39. The Sleeper 12/31/2002
40. The Coliseum 12/31/2002
Best Poem of Edgar Allan Poe

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In ...

Read the full of Annabel Lee

An Enigma

"Seldom we find," says Solomon Don Dunce,
"Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet.
Through all the flimsy things we see at once
As easily as through a Naples bonnet-
Trash of all trash!- how can a lady don it?
Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff-
Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff
Twirls into trunk-paper the while you con it."
And, veritably, Sol is right enough.

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