The Lake: To --

I was saying a few entries ago about poetry. And one of the darker poets that I am particularly fond of is Edgar Allan Poe. He is most famous for the poem The Raven (nothing more and evermore stuff). His poem always had an element of melody, like it was meant to be a song. And Jeff Buckley definitely transpose one of his poem, Ulalume - A Ballad, into a song. And that wasn't the only one. Recently, well, about a year ago, Antony of Antony & The Johnsons tweaked the words of another of his poem into a song. This particular one, I thoroughly enjoyed it. Because it was my favourite poem from his collection. It's titled The Lake: To--. Yeah, weird title. But everything described in the poem is so....bleak. Yet so romantic. The song is exceptionally well composed as well. It's got an element of forbode and just seems to be romantic (as in romanticism not the roses and candle light dinners type) and enhanced the lyrical and balladic tone that was already present in the poem.

If you have a chance to listen to it, you'll understand.

Antony & The Johnsons - The Lake In youth's spring, it was my lot To haunt of the wide earth a spot To which I could not love the less So lovely was the loneliness Of a wild lake, with black rock bound And the tall trees that towered around But when the night had thrown her pall Upon that spot as upon all And the wind would pass me by In its stilly melody My infant spirit would awake To the terror of the lone lake My infant spirit would awake To the terror of the lone lake Yet that terror was not fright But a tremulous delight And a feeling undefined Springing from a darkened mind Death was in that poisoned wave And in its gulf a fitting grave For him who thence could solace bring To his dark imagining Whose wildering though could even make An Eden of that dim lake But when the night had thrown her pall Upon that spot as upon all And the wind would pass me by In its stilly melody My infant spirit would awake To the terror of the lone lake My infant spirit would awake To the terror of the lone lake Springing from a darkened mind So lovely was the loneliness In youth's spring, it was my lot In its stilly melody An Eden of that dim lake An Eden of that dim lake Lone, lone, lonely...		Edgar Allan Poe - The Lake. To-- 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 the Night had thrown her pall Upon that spot, as upon all, And the mystic wind went by Murmuring in melody- Then–ah then I would awake To the terror of the lone lake. Yet that terror was not fright, But a tremulous delight- A feeling not the jewelled mine Could teach or bribe me to define- Nor Love–although the Love were thine. Death was in that poisonous wave, And in its 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.