Edgar Allan Poe, 1809–1849

Both of Edgar Allan Poe’s parents died when he was just shy of 3 years old and much of his work seems to revolve around mourning and death, a keystone of Gothic literature and a fitting theme for autumn. Although he is most remembered for his short fiction, his first love was poetry; he took much of his influence from Lord Byron, John Keats, and Percy Bysshe Shelley.

“Alone”

From childhood’s hour I have not been

As others were—I have not seen

As others saw—I could not bring

My passions from a common spring—

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow—I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone—

And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

Then—in my childhood—in the dawn

Of a most stormy life—was drawn

From ev’ry depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still—

From the torrent, or the fountain—

From the red cliff of the mountain—

From the sun that ’round me roll’d

In its autumn tint of gold—

From the lightning in the sky

As it pass’d me flying by—

From the thunder, and the storm—

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view—