Poems By Edgar Allan Poe
This article lists all known poems by American author and critic Edgar Allan Poe (January 19, 1809 – October 7, 1849), listed alphabetically with the date of their authorship in parentheses.
Read more about Poems By Edgar Allan Poe: An Acrostic (1829), Al Aaraaf (1829), Alone (1829), Annabel Lee (1849), The Bells (1848), Beloved Physician (1847), Bridal Ballad (1837), The City in The Sea (1831), The Coliseum (1833), The Conqueror Worm (1843), Deep in Earth (1847), The Divine Right of Kings (1845), A Dream (1827), A Dream Within A Dream (1849), Dream-Land (1844), Eldorado (1848), Elizabeth (1829), Enigma (1833), An Enigma (1848), Epigram For Wall Street (1845), Eulalie (1843), Evangeline (1848), Evening Star (1827), Fairy-Land (1829), Fanny (1833), For Annie (1849), The Happiest Day (1827), Hymn (1835), Imitation (1827), Impromptu. To Kate Carol (1845), Israfel (1831), The Lake (1827), Lines On Ale (1848), Lines On Joe Locke, O, Tempora! O, Mores! (1825?), A Pæan (1831), Poetry (1824), Romance (1829), Serenade (1833), Silence (1839), The Sleeper (1831), Song (1827), Sonnet — To Science (1829), Sonnet — To Zante (1837), Spirits of The Dead (1827), Spiritual Song (1836), Stanzas (1827), To —— (1829), To —— (1833), To —— —— (1829), To F—— (1845), To F——s S. O——d (1835 / 1845), To Helen (1848), To Isaac Lea (1829), To M—— (1828), To M. L. S—— (1847), To Margaret (1827), To Marie Louise (1847), To Miss Louise Olivia Hunter (1847), To My Mother (1849), To Octavia (1827), To One in Paradise (1833), To The River —— (1828), A Valentine (1846), The Valley of Unrest (1831), See Also
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“But evil things, in robes of sorrow,
Assailed the monarch’s high estate;”
—Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849)
“She was a child and I 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.”
—Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849)
“After all, poets shouldn’t be their own interpreters and shouldn’t carefully dissect their poems into everyday prose; that would mean the end of being poets. Poets send their creations into the world, it is up to the reader, the aesthetician, and the critic to determine what they wanted to say with their creations.”
—Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe (1749–1832)
“You hear that, Vitus? The phone is dead. Even the phone is dead.”
—Peter Ruric, and Edgar G. Ulmer. Edgar G. Ulmer. Hjalmar Poelzig (Boris Karloff)
“Taught me my alphabet to say,
To lisp my very earliest word,”
—Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849)
“The painter stood entranced before the work which he had wrought;... he grew tremulous and ... crying with a loud voice, “This is indeed Life itself!” turned suddenly to regard his beloved:MShe was dead!”
—Edgar Allan Poe (1809–1849)