22 lines
837 B
Plaintext
22 lines
837 B
Plaintext
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1849
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TO MY MOTHER
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by Edgar Allan Poe
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Because I feel that, in the Heavens above,
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The angels, whispering to one another,
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Can find, among their burning terms of love,
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None so devotional as that of "Mother,"
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Therefore by that dear name I long have called you-
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You who are more than mother unto me,
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And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
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In setting my Virginia's spirit free.
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My mother- my own mother, who died early,
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Was but the mother of myself; but you
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Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
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And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
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By that infinity with which my wife
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Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.
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-THE END-
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