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Ulalume | Poems by Edgar Allan Poe · Ririro.com - Poetry

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  Speaker 1: The skies they were ashen and sober. The leaves they
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  Speaker 1: were crisped and sere. The leaves they were withering and sere.
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  Speaker 1: It was night in the lonesome October of my most
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  Speaker 1: immemorial year. It was hard by the dim lake of Orber,
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  Speaker 1: in the misty mid region of Weir. It was down
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  Speaker 1: by the dank tarn of Orba, in the ghoul haunt
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  Speaker 1: in woodland of Weir. Here once through an alley Titanic
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  Speaker 1: of Cypress, I roamed with my soul of Cypress, with Psyche,
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  Speaker 1: my soul. These were days when my heart was volcanic,
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  Speaker 1: as the scoriac rivers that roll, as the lavas that
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  Speaker 1: restlessly roll their sulfurous currents down Yarnik, and the ultimate
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  Speaker 1: climes of the Pole that groan as they rolled down
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  Speaker 1: Mount Yarnik in the realms of the Boreal Pole. Our
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  Speaker 1: talk had been serious and sober, but our thoughts, they
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  Speaker 1: were polesied on sear. Our memories were treacherous and sere.
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  Speaker 1: For we knew not the month was October, and we
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  Speaker 1: marked not the night of the year, ah night of
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  Speaker 1: all nights in the year. We noted not the dim
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  Speaker 1: lake of Auber, though once we had journeyed down here,
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  Speaker 1: remembered not the dank tarn of Orber, nor the ghoul
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  Speaker 1: haunted woodland of Weir. And now, as the night was senescent,
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  Speaker 1: and star dials pointed to Morn, as the sun dials
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  Speaker 1: hinted of Morn, at the end of our path, a
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  Speaker 1: liquescent and nebulous luster was born, out of which a
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  Speaker 1: miraculous crescent arose with a duplicate horn. Astarte's bediamond crescent
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  Speaker 1: distinct with its duplicate horn. And I said, she is
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  Speaker 1: warmer than Dian. She rolls through an ether of sight eyes.
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  Speaker 1: She revels in a region of sighs. She has seen
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  Speaker 1: that the tears are not dry on these cheeks where
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  Speaker 1: the worm never dies, and has compassed the stars of
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  Speaker 1: the Lion to point us the path to the skies,
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  Speaker 1: to the Lithian peace of the skies. Come up in
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  Speaker 1: despite of the lion, to shine on us with her
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  Speaker 1: bright eyes, Come up through the lair of the Lion,
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  Speaker 1: with love in her luminous eyes. But Psyche uplifting her finger, said,
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  Speaker 1: sadly this star, I mistrust her, pallor I strangely mistrust
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  Speaker 1: Oh hasten, Oh let us not linger, Oh, fly, let
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  Speaker 1: us fly, for we must in terror. She spoke, letting
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  Speaker 1: sink her wings till they trailed in the dust in agony, sobb'd,
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  Speaker 1: Letting sink her plumes till they trail'd in the dust,
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  Speaker 1: till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust. I replied, this
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  Speaker 1: is nothing but dreaming. Let us on by this tremulous light.
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  Speaker 1: Let us bathe in this crystalline light. Its sybylic splendor
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  Speaker 1: is beaming with hope and in beauty to night. See
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  Speaker 1: it flickers up the sky through the night. Ah, we
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  Speaker 1: safely may trust to its gleaming and be sure it
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  Speaker 1: will lead us aright. We safely may trust to a
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  Speaker 1: gleaming that cannot but guide us aright, since it flickers
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  Speaker 1: up to heaven through the night. Thus I pacified Psyche
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  Speaker 1: and kiss'd her, and tempted her out of her gloom,
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  Speaker 1: and conquered her scruples and gloom. And we passed to
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  Speaker 1: the end of a vista, but was stopp'd by the
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  Speaker 1: door of a tomb, by the door of a legended tomb.
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  Speaker 1: And I said, but is written sweet sister on the
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  Speaker 1: door of this legendid tomb. She replied, ulalum Ulalum tis
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  Speaker 1: the vault of thy lost Ulalum. Then my heart it
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  Speaker 1: grew ashen and sober as the leaves that were crisp'd
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  Speaker 1: and sere, as the leaves that were withering and sere.
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  Speaker 1: And I cried. It was surely October, on this very
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  Speaker 1: night of last year that I journeyed, I journeyed down here,
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  Speaker 1: that I brought a dread burden down here, on this
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  Speaker 1: night of all nights in the year. Ah, what demon
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  Speaker 1: has tempted me here? Well? I know now this dim
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  Speaker 1: lake of Alber, this misty mid region of Weir. Well
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  Speaker 1: I know now this dank tarn of Auber, this ghoul
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  Speaker 1: haunted woodland of Weir, that