large/10730/the_sleeper_1603/sleeper_poe_jdl_64kb_12
large/10730/the_sleeper_1603/sleeper_poe_jdl_64kb
English
10730
* * * * * THE SLEEPER At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. ORB BY JAMES LE PEE AT MIDNIGHT IN THE MONTH OF JUNE I STAND BENEATH THE MYSTIC MOON
edly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie. So blend the turrets and shadows there That all seem pendulous in air, While from a proud tower in the town Death looks gigantically down. There open fanes and gaping graves Yawn level with the luminous waves; But not the riches there that lie In each idol's diamond eye-- Not the gaily-jewelled dead Tempt the waters from their bed; For no ripples curl, alas! Along that wilderness of glass-- No swellings tell that winds may be Upon some far-off happier sea-- No heavings hint that winds have been On seas less hideously serene. But lo, a stir is in the air! The wave--there is a movement there! As if the towers had thrust aside, In slightly sinking, the dull tide-- As if their tops had feebly given A void within the filmy Heaven. The waves have now a redder glow-- The hours are breathing faint and low-- And when, amid no earthly moans, Down, down that town shall settle hence, Hell, rising from a thousand thrones, Shall do it reverence. 1835?   THE SLEEPER BY EDGAR ALLAN POE READ FOR BY LIVERBOX TOT 
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