The Lake

Edgar Allan Poe 1809 (Boston) – 1849 (Baltimore)



In spring of youth it was my lot
       To haunt of the wide world a spot
       The which I could not love the less-
       So lovely was the loneliness
       Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
       And the tall pines that towered around.

       But when the Night had thrown her pall
       Upon that spot, as upon all,
       And the mystic wind went by
       Murmuring in melody-
       Then- ah then I would awake
       To the terror of the lone lake.

       Yet that terror was not fright,
       But a tremulous delight-
       A feeling not the jewelled mine
       Could teach or bribe me to define-
       Nor Love- although the Love were thine.

       Death was in that poisonous wave,
       And in its gulf a fitting grave
       For him who thence could solace bring
       To his lone imagining-
       Whose solitary soul could make
       An Eden of that dim lake.

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Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on May 03, 2023

44 sec read
1,091

Quick analysis:

Scheme AAXXBB XXXXCC DDEEE FFGGCC
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 876
Words 147
Stanzas 4
Stanza Lengths 6, 6, 5, 6

Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe was an American author, poet, editor, and literary critic, considered part of the American Romantic Movement. Poe is best known for his poetry and short stories, particularly his tales of mystery and the macabre. more…

All Edgar Allan Poe poems | Edgar Allan Poe Books

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