To Isadore

I. Beneath the vine-clad eaves,
  Whose shadows fall before
  Thy lowly cottage door--
  Under the lilac's tremulous leaves--
  Within thy snowy clasped hand
  The purple flowers it bore.
  Last eve in dreams, I saw thee stand,
  Like queenly nymph from Fairy-land--
  Enchantress of the flowery wand,
  Most beauteous Isadore!

II. And when I bade the dream
  Upon thy spirit flee,
  Thy violet eyes to me
  Upturned, did overflowing seem
  With the deep, untold delight
  Of Love's serenity;
  Thy classic brow, like lilies white
  And pale as the Imperial Night
  Upon her throne, with stars bedight,
  Enthralled my soul to thee!

III. Ah! ever I behold
  Thy dreamy, passionate eyes,
  Blue as the languid skies
  Hung with the sunset's fringe of gold;
  Now strangely clear thine image grows,
  And olden memories
  Are startled from their long repose
  Like shadows on the silent snows
  When suddenly the night-wind blows
  Where quiet moonlight lies.

IV. Like music heard in dreams,
  Like strains of harps unknown,
  Of birds for ever flown,--
  Audible as the voice of streams
  That murmur in some leafy dell,
  I hear thy gentlest tone,
  And Silence cometh with her spell
  Like that which on my tongue doth dwell,
  When tremulous in dreams I tell
  My love to thee alone!

V. In every valley heard,
  Floating from tree to tree,
  Less beautiful to me,
  The music of the radiant bird,
  Than artless accents such as thine
  Whose echoes never flee!
  Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine:--
  For uttered in thy tones benign
  (Enchantress!) this rude name of mine
  Doth seem a melody!

Rate this poem:(0.00 / 0 votes)
108 Views

Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe was an American author, poet, editor, and literary critic, considered part of the American Romantic Movement. he was especially known for his amazing poem "Annabelle Lee". And we love the songs made out of his poetry. more…

All Edgar Allan Poe poems | Edgar Allan Poe Books

FAVORITE (4 fans)

Translation

Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

Select another language:

  • - Select -
  • Chinese - Simplified 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
  • Chinese - Traditional 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
  • Spanish Español (Spanish)
  • Esperanto Esperanto (Esperanto)
  • Japanese 日本語 (Japanese)
  • Portuguese Português (Portuguese)
  • German Deutsch (German)
  • Arabic العربية (Arabic)
  • French Français (French)
  • Russian Русский (Russian)
  • Kannada ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
  • Korean 한국어 (Korean)
  • Hebrew עברית (Hebrew)
  • Ukrainian Український (Ukrainian)
  • Urdu اردو (Urdu)
  • Hungarian Magyar (Hungarian)
  • Hindi मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
  • Indonesian Indonesia (Indonesian)
  • Italian Italiano (Italian)
  • Tamil தமிழ் (Tamil)
  • Turkish Türkçe (Turkish)
  • Telugu తెలుగు (Telugu)
  • Thai ภาษาไทย (Thai)
  • Vietnamese Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
  • Czech Čeština (Czech)
  • Polish Polski (Polish)
  • Indonesian Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
  • Romanian Românește (Romanian)
  • Dutch Nederlands (Dutch)
  • Greek Ελληνικά (Greek)
  • Latin Latinum (Latin)
  • Swedish Svenska (Swedish)
  • Danish Dansk (Danish)
  • Finnish Suomi (Finnish)
  • Persian فارسی (Persian)
  • Yiddish ייִדיש (Yiddish)
  • Armenian հայերեն (Armenian)
  • Norwegian Norsk (Norwegian)
  • English English (English)

Discuss this Edgar Allan Poe poem with the community:

Citation

Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:

Style:MLAChicagoAPA

"To Isadore" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 17 Sep. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/8483/to-isadore>.

We need you!

Help us build the largest poetry community and poems collection on the web!

Other poems by

Edgar Allan Poe

»

Our favorite collection of

Famous Poets

»

Thanks for your vote! We truly appreciate your support.