Twine then the rays
Round her soft Theban tissues.
All will be as She says,
When the dead Past reissues.
Matters not what nor where,
Hark, to the moon's dim cluster!
How was her heavy hair
Lithe as a feather-duster!
Matters not when nor whence;
Sound make the song, not sense,
Thus I inhibit!
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Comments about this poem (Psycholophon by Gelett Burgess )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
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