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The Haunted Palace: by Edgar Allan Poe

The poem describes a once beautiful haunted palace that now stands in ruins. The palace was originally a radiant building where spirits danced musically and the wise king sat upon his throne. But evil forces attacked and brought sorrow to the kingdom. Now, the palace is desolate and haunted, where vast phantom forms move discordantly through red-lit windows for all travelers to see.

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161 views2 pages

The Haunted Palace: by Edgar Allan Poe

The poem describes a once beautiful haunted palace that now stands in ruins. The palace was originally a radiant building where spirits danced musically and the wise king sat upon his throne. But evil forces attacked and brought sorrow to the kingdom. Now, the palace is desolate and haunted, where vast phantom forms move discordantly through red-lit windows for all travelers to see.

Uploaded by

Pam
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOCX, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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The Haunted Palace

by Edgar Allan Poe


(published 1839)

In the greenest of our valleys


By good angels tenanted,
Once a fair and stately palace-
Radiant palace- reared its head.
In the monarch Thought's dominion-
It stood there!
Never seraph spread a pinion
Over fabric half so fair!
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,
On its roof did float and flow,
(This- all this- was in the olden
Time long ago,)
And every gentle air that dallied,
In that sweet day,
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,
A winged odor went away.

Wanderers in that happy valley,


Through two luminous windows, saw
Spirits moving musically,
To a lute's well-tuned law,
Round about a throne where, sitting
(Porphyrogene!)
In state his glory well-befitting,
The ruler of the realm was seen.

And all with pearl and ruby glowing


Was the fair palace door,
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
And sparkling evermore,
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
Was but to sing,
In voices of surpassing beauty,
The wit and wisdom of their king.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow,


Assailed the monarch's high estate.
(Ah, let us mourn!- for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him desolate!)
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that valley,
Through the red-litten windows see
Vast forms, that move fantastically
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
Through the pale door
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh- but smile no more.

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