life help: Spirits Of The Dead - Help.com

a nice poem :)

That is not how the poem goes. :(

The sprits of the dead
By Edgar Allan Poe

Thy soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.

Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness — for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.

The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne’er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.

The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!

Darn that internet ;)
Yes. It is very good. :)

It really is a good poem either way

I greatly enjoyed Poe’s poem Nevermore. This one rings like music in my ears too though.

Its all dark and creepy >:) i like it!

Dear Mr. Poe,

You came on Help.com because you need help. Your obsession with your young cousin isn’t healthy, but I’m terribly sorry for your loss. I hope you see a therapist. I’m into CBT, myself. And if you think you’re in danger of hurting yourself, please call 911! Please!

Good luck,

RaspberryUnicorn42

P.S. - If you didn’t notice, you guys, this is a parody. ;-P

I did notice the parody. We went over his death in an English class a while ago ^^

DarkSnow wrote:
I did notice the parody. We went over his death in an English class a while ago ^^

Well, you never know on the interwebz. :-D

Very, very true. *plot spoiler* Poe is dead. And soz James Brown.

Eddieee wrote:
The sprits of the dead
By Edgar Allan Poe

Thy soul shall find itself alone
‘Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone;
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.

Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness — for then
The spirits of the dead, who stood
In life before thee, are again
In death around thee, and their will
Shall overshadow thee; be still.

The night, though clear, shall frown,
And the stars shall not look down
From their high thrones in the Heaven
With light like hope to mortals given,
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.

Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne’er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more, like dew-drop from the grass.

The breeze, the breath of God, is still,
And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!

Its a good poem ^_^