Niefleheimstrasse

Porte D'entrée

 

David Arroyo

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Millicent Eidson

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Antonia Hildebrand

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E. Martin Pedersen

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Edgar Allan Poe

{below}

 

Fabrice Poussin

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Ron Singer

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Christian Ward

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Stuart Watson

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♥  ♠  ♦  ♣

 

Edgar Allan Poe

The Haunted Palace

 

I

     In the greenest of our valleys,

       By good angels tenanted,

     Once a fair and stately palace—

       Radiant palace—reared its head.

     In the monarch Thought's dominion—

       It stood there!

     Never seraph spread a pinion

       Over fabric half so fair.

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II

     Banners yellow, glorious, golden,

       On its roof did float and flow;

     (This—all this—was in the olden

       Time long ago)

     And every gentle air that dallied,

       In that sweet day,

     Along the ramparts plumed and pallid,

       A winged odor went away.

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III

     Wanderers in that happy valley

       Through two luminous windows saw

     Spirits moving musically

       To a lute's well-tuned law,

     Round about a throne, where sitting

       (Porphyrogene!)

     In state his glory well befitting,

       The ruler of the realm was seen.

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IV

     And all with pearl and ruby glowing

       Was the fair palace door,

     Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,

       And sparkling evermore,

     A troop of Echoes whose sweet duty

       Was but to sing,

     In voices of surpassing beauty,

       The wit and wisdom of their king.

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V

     But evil things, in robes of sorrow,

       Assailed the monarch's high estate

     (Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow

       Shall dawn upon him, desolate!);

     And, round about his home, the glory

       That blushed and bloomed

     Is but a dim-remembered story

        Of the old time entombed.

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VI

     And travelers now within that valley,

       Through the red-litten windows, see

     Vast forms that move fantastically

       To a discordant melody;

     While, like a rapid ghastly river,

       Through the pale door,

     A hideous throng rush out forever,

       And laugh—but smile no more.

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Danse Macabre

An Online Literary Magazine

Celebrating 15 years 

publishing the finest in noir coloratura letters

from around the world & beyond the grave

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Dedicated to my mom,

currently playing Deuces Wild Spin Poker

in the Niefleheimstrasse smokers' lounge

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