Imitation

A dark unfathom'd tide Of interminable pride— A mystery, and a dream, Should my early life seem; I say that dream was fraught With a wild, and waking thought Of beings that have been, Which my spirit hath not seen, Had I let them pass me by, With a dreaming eye! Let none of earth inherit That vision on my spirit; Those thoughts I would controul, As a spell upon his soul: For that bright hope at last And that light time have past, And my worldly rest hath gone With a sight as it pass'd on, I care not tho' it perish With a thought I then did cherish. Edgar Allan Poe