Edgar Allan Poe

(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)

The Lake - Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less-
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.

But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody-
Then- ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.

Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremulous delight-
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Love were thine.

Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining-
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.


Comments about The Lake by Edgar Allan Poe

  • Rookie - 325 Points Phurpa Wangdi (9/2/2015 10:21:00 AM)

    wow lovely poem indeed. nice rhyme (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Gold Star - 52,559 Points Frank James Ryan Jr...fjr (6/10/2015 9:36:00 PM)

    Stunning work as every Poe work be...~FjR~ (Report) Reply

  • Veteran Poet - 1,542 Points Mark Arvizu (9/7/2014 10:52:00 AM)

    Awesome Poe as usual! (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Annie Thornton (12/9/2012 11:14:00 AM)

    im sorry if you get this message more than once, i rememered this poem differently? Did you modernize it for this post, or have i gone crazy? (Report) Reply

Read all 4 comments »



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Read poems about / on: spring, wind, death, world, night, love



Poem Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Poem Edited: Thursday, January 19, 2012


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