Edgar Allan Poe

(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849 / Boston)

Comments about Edgar Allan Poe

  • Walterrean Salley (5/1/2012 12:34:00 PM)

    Edgar Allen Poe is among the best. One of the greatest poets ever. Powerful, enduring works.

    37 person liked.
    33 person did not like.
  • Evan Haase Evan Haase (4/10/2012 9:39:00 PM)

    My favorite poet of all time
    without his poetry i would have never started writing

  • R.e.d. Xcxc (3/13/2012 9:37:00 PM)

    Thanks to him I learned that hardships plus a little bit of fanstay makes a epic story got a A+ in languege arts

  • Edmond Williams (2/2/2012 2:22:00 PM)

    Sorrow can turn anyone into a poet
    but He did it better than anyone.

  • Ronald James De Langen Ronald James De Langen (11/25/2011 7:53:00 PM)

    My favorite... such a sad life a great poet makes... going to read more of his stuff :)

  • Aychurok Nurbaeva (11/5/2011 1:31:00 AM)

    О н о д и н и з в е л и к и х п и с а т е л е й ...

  • Ethan Withey (10/27/2011 12:00:00 PM)

    Edgar Allen poe wrote great poems in his day

  • Leas Celyn (10/4/2011 12:53:00 PM)

    En toda la seriedad, amo su trabajo.

  • Leas Celyn (10/4/2011 12:51:00 PM)

    Increible'! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

  • Trenton Cadle (9/26/2011 11:46:00 AM)

    edgar allan poe is the best poet

Best Poem of Edgar Allan Poe

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In ...

Read the full of Annabel Lee

To Helen - 1848

I saw thee once- once only- years ago:
I must not say how many- but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,

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