The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
Edgar Allan Poe
1809 to 1849
Track 1
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The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
The wantonest birds,
Are lips—and all thy melody
Of lip-begotten words—
eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined
Then desolately fall,
God! on my funereal mind
Like starlight on a pall—
Thy heart—thy heart!—I wake and sigh,
sleep to dream till day
Of the truth that can never buy—
Of the baubles that it may.