Edgar Allan Poe

All that you see or seem, is but a dream within a dream. They who dream by day are cognizant read more

All that you see or seem, is but a dream within a dream. They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

Poetry is the rhythmical creation of beauty in words.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

And still the Raven, never flitting,
Still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of read more

And still the Raven, never flitting,
Still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas
Just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming
Of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o'er him streaming
Throws his shadow on the floor,
And my soul from out that shadow,
That lies floating on the floor,
Shall be lifted--nevermore.

The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.

The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass.