Ulalume

The skies, they were ashen and sober

As the leaves that were crisped and sere

As 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 currents down Yaanek

In the ultimate climes of the pole-
That groan as they roll down mount Yaanek

In the realms of the boreal pole.

Our talk, it was serious and sober,

But our thoughts were palsied and sere-

Our memories were treacherous and sere
For we knew not the month was October,

And we marked not the night of the year

Ah, night of all nights of the year!
We noted not the dim lake of Auber

Nor the misty mid-region of Weir
We remembered not the dim lake of Auber

Nor the ghoul haunted woodland of Weir.

And now as the night was senescent

And star-dials pointed to morn,

As the star-dials hinted of morn
At the end of our path a liquiscent

And nebulous lustre was born,
Out of which a miraculous crescent

Arose with a duplicate horn
Astartes bediamoned crescent

Distinct with a duplicate horn.

And I said, "She is warmer than Dian!

She rolls through an ether of sighs,

She revells in a region of sighs.
She has seen that the tears are not dry on

These cheeks, where the worm never dies.
And has come past the stars of the Lion

To point us the path to the skies,

To the lethean peace of the skies.
Come up, in despite of the lion,

To shine on us with these bright eyes,
Come up, through the lair of the lion

With love in these luminous eyes."

But Psyche, uplifting her finger

Said: "Sadly, this star I distrust.

Her pallor I strangely mistrust.
Ah, hasten, ah let us not linger,

Ah, fly, let us fly, for we must!"
In agony spoke, letting sink her

Plumes till they trailed in the dust

Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

I replied "this is nothing but dreaming!

Let us on by this tremulous light!

Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
It's syballic splendor is beaming

With hope and in beauty tonight!

See! It flickers up the sky through the night!
Ah, we safely may trust to it's gleaming

And be sure it will guide us aright.
We safely may trust to a gleaming

Than cannot but guide us aright,

Since it flickers up to heaven through the night".

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her.

And tempted her out of her gloom,

And conquered her scruptles and gloom.
And we passed to the end of the vista,

But were stopped buy the door of a tomb-

By the door of a legended tombm
And I said "What is written, sweet sister,

On the door of this legended tomb?"
She replied "Ulalume, Ulalume,

'tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!

Then my heart it grew ashen and sober

As the leaves that were crisped and sere-

As the leaves that were withering and sere.
And I cried "It was surely October

On this very night of last year

That I journeyed - I journeyed down here,

That I brought a dread burden down here

On this night of all nights of the year

Ah, what demon has tempted me here?
Well, I know now this dim lake of Auber

This misty mid-region of Weir,
I know now this dank tarn of Auber

This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.

--Edgar Allan Poe