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About this Poem 

From The Works of Edgar Allan Poe in Five Volumes: The Raven Edition (P.F. Collier, 1902)

 

To ——

     I heed not that my earthly lot

         Hath-little of Earth in it—

     That years of love have been forgot

     In the hatred of a minute:—

     I mourn not that the desolate

         Are happier, sweet, than I,

     But that you sorrow for my fate

     Who am a passer-by.

This poem is in the public domain. 

This poem is in the public domain. 

Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe

Born in 1809, Edgar Allan Poe had a profound impact on American and international literature as an editor, poet, and critic.

by this poet

poem

Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
   Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
   Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
   Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering
To seek

poem
     Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art!
         Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes.
     Why preyest thou thus upon the poet’s heart,
         Vulture, whose wings are dull realities?
     How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise,
         Who wouldst not leave him in his
poem
Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of "Mother,"
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you—
You who are more than mother unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you