For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

 

Annabel Lee

by Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this  maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love--

I and my Annabel Lee--

With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me--

Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we--

Of many far wiser than we--

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee'

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride.

In her sepulchre there by the sea--

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Dedicated to my daughter

Crystal Michelle Fallin

June 19, 1984 - August 18, 2019

The Moon never Beams without bringing me Dreams

 

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love--

I and my Annabel Lee--

With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee,

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me, 

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me--

Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we--

Of many far wiser than we--

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, i lie down by the side

Of my darling--my daring--my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea--

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

By Edgar Allan Poe

"A Dream within a Dream"

A Dream Within a Dream

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

By Edgar Allen Poe

Wandering River

To The River

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 trembles-
Why, then, the prettiest of brooks
Her worshipper resembles;
For in his heart, as in thy stream,
Her image deeply lies-
His heart which trembles at the beam
Of her soul-searching eyes.

 

Edgar Allen Poe                  

Tenaya Lake

The Lake

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.

By Edgar Allen Poe

Copper Harbor Light house

 Copper Harbor Light House is located in the harbor of Copper Harbor, Michigan on the Keweenaw Peninsula of Upper Michigan inside Fort Wilkins Historic State Park. It was a very windy day and cloudy.  My favorite poet all through high school was Edgar Allen Poe and his poem "In a kingdom by the sea...' of Annabel Lee.


Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,

   In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

   By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

   Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

   I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

   My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

   And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

   In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

   Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

   In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

   Of those who were older than we—

   Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

   Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

   In her sepulchre there by the sea—

   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

 

Edgar Allen Poe 1809–1849

 

Mangaotaki Valley's Wildflowers and Pastures - A Dream within a Dream

 

There is a lot more beauty to Piopio then just the limestone cliffs and rocks.  The primeval forest sit at the feet of the cliffs with cow pastures and fences adorned with wildflowers and picturesque rolling hills.  It is a dream within a dream of floating clouds and rolling hills that I hope to see again some day. I saw this vision in one afternoon but it capture my memory and will stay with me to the end of my days!

A Dream within a Dream
By Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow-
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep- while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?                             

East Shore Trailhead, Shadow Mountain Lake

We hiked the East Shore Trailhead which is 1.5 miles to the Shadow Mountain Trail.  It had a beautiful view of the lake and forest and it intersects with the Ranger Meadows Trail.  We decided to take the Ranger Meadows Trail and loop back to the Colorado River for another 1.5 mile hike. The lake waters appear very calm with it's pastel shades of blue set against a blue sky.  Like 'A Dream Within a Dream".

 

A Dream Within a Dream

  by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow:
You are not wrong who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand--
How few! yet how they creep 
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep--while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

 

Edgar Allan Poe:  Born in 1809, Edgar Allan Poe had a profound impact on American and international literature as an editor, a poet, and a critic His stories mark him as one of the originators of both horror and detective fiction. Many anthologies credit him as the "architect" of the modern short story.                              

'Eleonora' - A River of Silence

“From the dim regions beyond the mountains at the upper end of our encircled domain, there crept out a narrow and deep river, brighter than all save the eyes of Eleonora; and, winding stealthily about in mazy courses, it passed away, at length, through a shadowy gorge, among hills still dimmer than those whence it had issued. We called it the "River of Silence"; for there seemed to be a hushing influence in its flow. No murmur arose from its bed, and so gently it wandered along, that the pearly pebbles upon which we loved to gaze, far down within its bosom, stirred not at all, but lay in a motionless content, each in its own old station, shining on gloriously forever.”
― Edgar Allan Poe, Eleonora