Edgar Allan Poe
The Conqueror Worm
Lo! 'tis a gala night
Within the lonesome latter years!
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
In veils, and drowned in tears,
Sit in a theatre, to see
A play of hopes and fears,
While the orchestra breathes fitfully
The music of the spheres.
Mimes, in the form of God on high,
Mutter and mumble low,
And hither and thither fly-
Mere puppets they, who come and go
At bidding of vast formless things
That shift the scenery to and fro,
Flapping from out their Condor wings
That motley drama- oh, be sure
It shall not be forgot!
With its Phantom chased for evermore,
By a crowd that seize it not,
Through a circle that ever returneth in
To the self-same spot,
And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
And Horror the soul of the plot.
But see, amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.
Out- out are the lights- out all!
And, over each quivering form,
The curtain, a funeral pall,
Comes down with the rush of a storm,
While the angels, all pallid and wan,
Uprising, unveiling, affirm
That the play is the tragedy, 'Man,'
And its hero the Conqueror Worm.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (The Conqueror Worm by Edgar Allan Poe )
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley
Did you read them?
- THIS TIME IS DIFFERENT FROM WHAT WAS IN .., MOHAMMAD SKATI
- Destined Lovers, Lori Palazzo
- skiing, lee fones
- Ward 8, Kyle Schlicher
- Your bracelet, Abhimanyu Singh Arha
- My Heart Song, samantha hale
- Hidden Gold, Hazel Durham
- The One, Spiritwind Wood
- THAT HUGE BLACKOUT, MOHAMMAD SKATI
- What The World Told, Adeosun Olamide