Postcard 1
By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angles only,
Where an Eidonlon, named Night,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule--
From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of Space-- out of Time.
Postcard 2
There the traveller meets aghast
Sheeted memories of the Past --
Shrouded forms that start and sigh
As they pass the wanderer by --
White-robed forms of friends long given,
In agony, to the Earth-- and Heaven.
Postcard 3
By the lakes that thus outspread
Their lone waters, lone and dead, --
Their sad waters, sad and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily, --
By the mountains -- near the river
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,--
And thus the sad Soul that here passes
Beholds it but through darkened glasses.
Dream-Land by Edgar Allan Poe
