Quote #13

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.

More from Edgar Allan Poe

  1. Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld! Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night! I feel ye now - I feel ye in your strength.
  2. And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams Are where thy dark eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams - In what ethereal dan…
  3. Come! let the burial rite be read - the funeral song be sung! - An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young - A dirge for her…
  4. Convinced myself, I seek not to convince.
  5. If I could dwell Where Israfel Hath dwelt, and he where I, He might not sing so wildly well A mortal melody, While a bolder note than this …
  6. But as, in ethics, evil is a consequence of good, so, in fact, out of joy is sorrow born. Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of…
  7. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, wayworn wanderer bore To his own n…
  8. There is then no analogy whatever between the operations of the Chess-Player, and those of the calculating machine of Mr. Babbage, and if w…

All Edgar Allan Poe quotes