AN ENIGMA
by: Edgar Allan Poe (1809-1849)
- "eldom we find," says Solomon Don Dunce,
- "Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet.
- Through all the flimsy things we see at once
- As easily as through a Naples bonnet
- Trash of all trash!how can a lady don it?
- Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff
- Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff
- Twirls into trunk-paper the while you con it."
- And, veritably, Sol is right enough.
- The general tuckermanities are arrant
- Bubblesephemeral and so transparent
- But this is, nowyou may depend upon it
- Stable, opaque, immortalall by dint
- Of the dear names that lie concealed within't.
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POEMS BY EDGAR ALLAN POE |
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