Edgar Allan Poe (McInnes)

A star-eyed captive, in a lonely tower, Look'd o'er a lake outspread in sullen gloom Illumin'd with infrequent lily bloom. There wayward Zephyrs sounded hour by hour Upon a harp whose Eolian power Beguil'd him, as he paced his haunted room, To songs ne'er heard before - voicing a doom That from the very Heavens seemed to lour.

He sang the songs of Death till Death, his theme, Engulf'd him in that Night of Mystery Wherein so often he had peer'd to see The trail of vanish'd Love - the Elysian gleam Upleading to a starry destiny - Twinkling from the very gates of Dream.