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in spring of youth it was my lot
to haunt of the wide world a spot
the which i could not love the less
so lovely was the loneliness
of a wild lake with black rock bound
and the tall pines that towered around
but when night had thrown her pall
upon that spot as upon all
and the mistic wind went by murmuring in melody
then-ah i would wake
to the terror of that dim lake
yet that terror was not fright
but a tremulous delight
a felling not the jeweled mine
could teach or bride me to difine
nor love althouth the love were thine
death wasin that poisonous wave
and in it's gulf a fitting grave
for him who thence could solace bring
to his lone imagining
whose solitary soul could make
an eden of that dim lake

~Edgar Allen Poe~
(my favorite poem)