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<h1>The Haunted Palace</h1>
<h3>By Edgar Allan Poe</h3>
<p>In the greenest of our valleys<br/>
By good angels tenanted,<br/>
Once a fair and stately palace—<br/>
Radiant palace—reared its head.<br/>
In the monarch Thought's dominion—<br/>
It stood there!<br/>
Never seraph spread a pinion<br/>
Over fabric half so fair!<br/><br/>
Banners yellow, glorious, golden,<br/>
On its roof did float and flow,<br/>
(This—all this—was in the olden<br/>
Time long ago),<br/>
And every gentle air that dallied,<br/>
In that sweet day,<br/>
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,<br/>
A winged odor went away.<br/><br/>
Wanderers in that happy valley,<br/>
Through two luminous windows, saw<br/>
Spirits moving musically,<br/>
To a lute's well-tunëd law,<br/>
Bound about a throne where, sitting<br/>
(Porphyrogene!)<br/>
In state his glory well befitting,<br/>
The ruler of the realm was seen.<br/><br/>
And all with pearl and ruby glowing<br/>
Was the fair palace door,<br/>
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,<br/>
And sparkling evermore,<br/>
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty<br/>
Was but to sing,<br/>
In voices of surpassing beauty,<br/>
The wit and wisdom of their king.<br/><br/>
But evil things, in robes of sorrow,<br/>
Assailed the monarch's high estate.<br/>
(Ah, let us mourn!—for never morrow<br/>
Shall dawn upon him desolate !)<br/>
And round about his home the glory<br/>
That blushed and bloomed,<br/>
Is but a dim-remembered story<br/>
Of the old time entombed.<br/><br/>
And travellers, now, within that valley,<br/>
Through the red-litten windows see<br/>
Vast forms, that move fantastically<br/>
To a discordant melody,<br/>
While, like a ghastly rapid river,<br/>
Through the pale door<br/>
A hideous throng rush out forever<br/>
And laugh—but smile no more.<br/></p>
<p>1838<br/>
<br/>
</p>
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