(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821 / London, England)

Bright Star

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art-
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors-
No- yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever- or else swoon to death.

User Rating: 3,7 / 5 ( 262 votes ) 79

Edgar Allan Poe

Annabel Lee

Comments (79)

ALL PEOPLE. F FF F F FF F U U. U U U U U U C CC C CC C CC C C C K K K. K K K K K
Genius
Beautiful poem beautifully read
Captivating sonnet...Bright stars inspire our soul...take us to make-believes and weave our wildest dreams.
A masterpiece from a literary genius
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