A little Edgar Allen Poe with Dreamland
On a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
An Eidolon named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigned upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimately dim Thule-
From a wild clime that lieth, sublime,
out of SPACE- out of TIME.
Bottomless vales and boundless floods,
and chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
With forms that no man can discover
For the tears that drip all over;
Mountains toppling evermore,
Into seas with a shore;
Seas that restlessly aspire,
Surging, unto skies of fire;
Lakes that endlessly outspread,
Their lone waters-lone and dead
Their still waters-still and chilly,
With the snows of the lolling lily.
By the lakes that thus outspread,
Their lone waters-lone and dead,
Their sad waters-sad and chilly,
With the snows of the lolling lily,-
By the mountians- near the river
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,-
By the grey woods,-by the swamp,
Where the toad and the newt encamp-
By the dismal tarns and pools
Where dwell the Ghouls,-
By each spot the most unholy-
In each nook the most melancholy-
There the traveller meets aghast
Sheeted memories of the Past-
Shrouded forms that start and sigh
As the pass the wanderer by-
White-robed forms of friends long given,
In agony, to the Earth-and Heaven.
For the heart whose woes are legion,
'Tis a peaceful, soothing region-
For the spirit that walks in shadow
'Tis-oh 'tis an Eldorado!
But the traveller, travelling through it,
May not-dare not view it!
Never its mysteries are exposed
To the weak human eye unclosed;
So wills its King, who hath forbid
The uplifting of the fringed lid;
And thus the sad Soul passes
Beholds it but through darkened glasses.
By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
An Eidolon named NIGHT
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have wandered home but newly
From this ultimate dim Thule.
"Complete Tales and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe", 1849.