Edgar Allan Poe Poems

Poems » edgar allan poe

Edgar Allan Poe
Edgar Allan Poe (January 19, 1809 October 7, 1849) was an American poet, short story writer, editor, literary critic, and one of the leaders of the American Romantic Movement. Best known for his tales of mystery and the macabre, Poe was one of the early American practitioners of the short story and a progenitor of detective fiction and crime fiction. He is also credited with contributing to the emergent science fiction genre. Born in Boston, Edgar Poe's parents died when he was still young and he was taken in by John and Frances Allan of Richmond, Virginia. Raised there and for a few years in England, Poe grew up in relative wealth, though he was never formally adopted by the Allans. After a short period at the University of Virginia and a brief attempt at a military career, Poe and the Allans parted ways. Poe's publishing career began humbly with an anonymous collection of poems called Tamerlane and Other Poems (1827), credited only "by a Bostonian." Poe moved to Baltimore to live with blood-relatives and switched his focus from poetry to prose. In July 1835, he became assistant editor of the Southern Literary Messenger in Richmond, where he helped increase subscriptions and began developing his own style of literary criticism. That year he also married Virginia Clemm, his 13-year old cousin. After an unsuccessful novel The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket, Poe produced his first collection of short stories, Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque in 1839. That year Poe became editor of Burton's Gentlemen's Magazine and, later, Graham's Magazine in Philadelphia. It was in Philadelphia that many of his most well-known works would be published. In that city, Poe also planned on starting his own journal, The Penn (later renamed The Stylus), though it would never come to be. In February 1844, he moved to New York City and worked with the Broadway Journal, a magazine of which he would eventually become sole owner. In January 1845, Poe published "The Raven" to instant success but, only two years later, his wife Virginia died of tuberculosis on January 30, 1847. Poe considered remarrying but never did. On October 7, 1849, Poe died at the age of 40 in Baltimore. The cause of his death is undetermined and has been attributed to alcohol, drugs, cholera, rabies, suicide (although likely to be mistaken with his suicide attempt in the previous year), tuberculosis, heart disease, brain congestion and other agents. Poe's legacy includes a significant influence in literature in the United States and around the world as well as in specialized fields like cosmology and cryptography. Additionally, Poe and his works appear throughout popular culture in literature, music, films, television, video games, etc. Some of his homes are dedicated as museums today.

epistles to several persons: epistle iv
 
 
Est brevitate opus, ut currat sententia, neu se
Impediat verbis lassas onerantibus au... [read poem]
an essay on man: epistle iii
 
 
Here then we rest: "The Universal Cause
Acts to one end, but acts by various laws."
In all... [read poem]
an essay on criticism: part 2
 
 
Of all the causes which conspire to blind
Man's erring judgment, and misguide the mind,
Wh... [read poem]
the iliad, book xii
 
 
Furious he spoke, and rushing to the wall,
Calls on his host; his host obey the call;
With... [read poem]
epistles to several persons: epistle to dr. arbuthnot
 
 
Neque sermonibus vulgi dederis te, nec in præmiis spem posueris rerum tuarum; suis te oport... [read poem]
the little boy and the old man
 
 
Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that, too."
The ... [read poem]
point of view
 
 
Thanksgiving dinner's sad and thankless
Christmas dinner's dark and blue
When you stop and... [read poem]
the rape of the lock: canto 4
 
 
But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress'd,
And secret passions labour'd in her breast.... [read poem]
an essay on criticism: part 1
 
 
Si quid novisti rectius istis,
Candidus imperti; si non, his utere mecum
[If... [read poem]
recipe for a hippopotamus sandwich
 
 
A hippo sandwich is easy to make.
All you do is simply take
One slice of bread,
One s... [read poem]
epistles to several persons: epistle ii: to a lady on the characters of women
 
 
Nothing so true as what you once let fall,
"Most Women have no Characters at all."
Matter ... [read poem]
the rape of the lock: canto 3
 
 
Close by those meads, for ever crown'd with flow'rs,
Where Thames with pride surveys his rising... [read poem]
you know where you did despise
 
 
You know where you did despise
(Tother day) my little Eyes,
Little Legs, and little Thighs... [read poem]
imitations of horace
 
 
Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere
(Horace, Epistles II.i.267)
... [read poem]
the iliad, book vi
 
 
...

He said, and pass'd with sad presaging heart
To seek his spouse, his soul's far... [read poem]
eloisa to abelard
 
 
In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells,
And ... [read poem]
the bells
 
 
Hear the sledges with the bells--
Silver bells--
What a world of merriment their melody fo... [read poem]
pastorals
 
 
To Dr. Garth

...

See what delights in sylvan scenes appear!... [read poem]
solitude: an ode
 
 
How happy he, who free from care
The rage of courts, and noise of towns;
Contented breaths... [read poem]
it's dark in here
 
 
I am writing these poems
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here.
So please ... [read poem]
an essay on man: epistle ii
 
 
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;
The proper study of mankind is man.
Plac'd on ... [read poem]
the rape of the lock: canto 5
 
 
She said: the pitying audience melt in tears,
But Fate and Jove had stopp'd the Baron's ears.... [read poem]
the rape of the lock: canto 1
 
 
Nolueram, Belinda, tuos violare capillos;
Sedjuvat, hoc precibus me tribuisse tuis.
... [read poem]
an essay on man: epistle i
 
 
To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke

Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things... [read poem]
an essay on criticism: part 3
 
 
Learn then what morals critics ought to show,
For 'tis but half a judge's task, to know.
'... [read poem]
an essay on man: epistle iv
 
 
What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy,
The soul's calm sunshine, and the heart-felt joy,... [read poem]
annabel lee
 
 
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived w... [read poem]
elegy to the memory of an unfortunate lady
 
 
What beck'ning ghost, along the moon-light shade
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?... [read poem]
stupid pencil maker
 
 
Some dummy built this pencil wrong,
The eraser's down here where the point belongs,
And th... [read poem]
the rape of the lock: canto 2
 
 
Not with more glories, in th' etherial plain,
The sun first rises o'er the purpled main,
T... [read poem]

Page 1 of 2     Next »»