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About this Poem 

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

 

A Valentine

     For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
         Brightly expressive as the twins of Loeda,
     Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies
         Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
     Search narrowly the lines!—they hold a treasure
         Divine—a talisman—an amulet
     That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure—
         The words—the syllables! Do not forget
     The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor!
         And yet there is in this no Gordian knot

     Which one might not undo without a sabre,
         If one could merely comprehend the plot.
     Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
         Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus
     Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
         Of poets, by poets—as the name is a poet’s, too.
     Its letters, although naturally lying
         Like the knight Pinto—Mendez Ferdinando—
     Still form a synonym for Truth—Cease trying!
         You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.

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
     Dim vales—and shadowy floods—
     And cloudy-looking woods,
     Whose forms we can’t discover
     For the tears that drip all over
     Huge moons there wax and wane—
     Again—again—again—
     Every moment of the night—
     Forever changing places
poem
 Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow
         Of crystal, wandering water,
     Thou art an emblem of the glow
             Of beauty—the unhidden heart—
             The playful maziness of art
     In old Alberto’s daughter;

     But when within thy wave she looks—
             Which glistens then, and
poem
     Of all who hail thy presence as the morning—
     Of all to whom thine absence is the night—
     The blotting utterly from out high heaven
     The sacred sun—of all who, weeping, bless thee
     Hourly for hope—for life—ah! above all,
     For the resurrection of deep-buried