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From: Great Works of Literature
Date: 19920101
Author:Poe, Edgar Allan
00-00-0000
Ulalume
The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere - The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year; It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir - It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul - haunted woodland of Weir.
Here once, through an alley Titanic, Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul - Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul. These were days when my heart was volcanic As the scoriac rivers that roll - As the lavas that restlessly roll Their sulphurous ...
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