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The Lake —— To—— | Edgar Allan Poe Poems · Ririro.com - Poetry

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  Speaker 1: In spring of youth. It was my lot to haunt
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  Speaker 1: of the wide earth, a spot to which I could
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  Speaker 1: not love. The less so lovely was the loneliness of
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  Speaker 1: a wild lake, with black rock bound, and the tall
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  Speaker 1: pines that towered around. But when the knight had thrown
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  Speaker 1: her pall upon that spot, as upon all, and the
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  Speaker 1: mystic wind went by murmuring in melody, then ah, then
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  Speaker 1: I would awake to the terror of the lone lake.
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  Speaker 1: Yet that terror was not fright, but a tremulous delight,
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  Speaker 1: a feeling not the jeweled mine could teach or bribe
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  Speaker 1: me to define, nor love, although the love were thine.
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  Speaker 1: Death was in that poisonous wave, and in its gulf
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  Speaker 1: a fitting grave for him, who, thence could solace bring
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  Speaker 1: to his lonely imagining, whose solitary soul could make an
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  Speaker 1: Eden of that dim lake.