The Complete poems of Edgar Allan Poe, by Edgar Allan Poe

To M——(1828)

Poe toyed with the working title “Alone” before this poem was printed as “To M——” in Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane, and Minor Poems. Poe would use the title “Alone” in 1829.

O! I care not that my earthly lot

Hath little of Earth in it,

That years of love have been forgot

In the fever of a minute:

I heed not that the desolate

Are happier, sweet, than I,

But that you meddle with my fate

Who am a passer by.

It is not that my founts of bliss

Are gushing — strange! with tears —

Or that the thrill of a single kiss

Hath palsied many years —

’Tis not that the flowers of twenty springs

Which have wither’d as they rose

Lie dead on my heart-strings

With the weight of an age of snows.

Not that the grass — O! may it thrive!

On my grave is growing or grown —

But that, while I am dead yet alive

I cannot be, lady, alone.

Last updated Sunday, March 27, 2016 at 11:59