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- 1839
- THE HAUNTED PALACE
- by Edgar Allan Poe
-
- In the greenest of our valleys
- By good angels tenanted,
- Once a fair and stately palace-
- Radiant palace- reared its head.
- In the monarch Thought's dominion-
- It stood there!
- Never seraph spread a pinion
- Over fabric half so fair!
-
- Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
- On its roof did float and flow,
- (This- all this- was in the olden
- Time long ago,)
- And every gentle air that dallied,
- In that sweet day,
- Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
- A winged odor went away.
-
- Wanderers in that happy valley,
- Through two luminous windows, saw
- Spirits moving musically,
- To a lute's well-tuned law,
- Round about a throne where, sitting
- (Porphyrogene!)
- In state his glory well-befitting,
- The ruler of the realm was seen.
-
- And all with pearl and ruby glowing
- Was the fair palace door,
- Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
- And sparkling evermore,
- A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
- Was but to sing,
- In voices of surpassing beauty,
- The wit and wisdom of their king.
-
- But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
- Assailed the monarch's high estate.
- (Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow
- Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
- And round about his home the glory
- That blushed and bloomed,
- Is but a dim-remembered story
- Of the old time entombed.
-
- And travellers, now, within that valley,
- Through the red-litten windows see
- Vast forms, that move fantastically
- To a discordant melody,
- While, like a ghastly rapid river,
- Through the pale door
- A hideous throng rush out forever
- And laugh- but smile no more.
-
- -THE END-
-