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
Of the truth that gold can never buy—
Like starlight on a pall—
And sleep to dream till day
Then desolately fall,
O God! on my funereal mind
Thy heart—thy heart!—I wake and sigh,
Of lip-begotten words—
The wantonest singing birds,
Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined
Of the baubles that it may.
Are lips—and all thy melody
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