Abstract Thoughts Lyrics - Singles - Odes Of Ecstasy

[by Edgar Allen Poe] 

Lo! 'tis agala 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 form of God on high, 

Mutter and mumbled low, 

And hither and thither fly 

Mere puppets they,who come and go 

At biding of vast formless things 

That shift the scenary to and fro, 

Flapping from out of their Condor wings 

Invisible Woe! 

The 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, among 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 the angels sob at vermin fangs 

In human gore 

imbuted. 

Out-out are the lights-out all! 

And, over each quivering form, 

The curtain, the funeral pall, 

Comes down with the rush of a storm, 

And the angels, all pallid and wan, 

Uprising, unveiling, affirm 

That the play is the tragedy "Man" 

and its hero the 

Conqueor worm.