Skip to content
ReadingWillow structured literacy program for Australian students

To Miss Louise Olivia Hunter

Edgar Allan Poe·1809–1849
Lines:15Movement:Romanticism
Though I turn, I fly not —I cannot depart;I would try, but try notTo release my heart.And my hopes are dyingWhile, on dreams relying,I am spelled by art. Thus, the bright snake coiling[']Neath the forest treeWins the bird, beguiling,To come down and see:Like that bird the loverRound his fate will hoverTill the blow is overAnd he sinks — like me.