To --

The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see
The wantonest singing birds,
Are lips- and all thy melody
Of lip-begotten words-

Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined,
Then desolately fall,
O God! on my funereal mind
Like starlight on a pall-

Thy heart- thy heart!- I wake and sigh,
And sleep to dream till day
Of the truth that gold can never buy-
Of the baubles that it may.

by Edgar Allan Poe

Comments (3)

I wake and sigh, And sleep to dream till day Of the truth that gold can never buy- Of the baubles that it may. A nice piece of poetry, lovely and Adorable.. Subhas
....a most incredible write and stunning realization ★ of the truth that gold can never buy
Always so funereal that Poe