Baltimore City is stopping funds for the Edgar Allen Poe House. This will greatly affect tourism. Funding is used to celebrate Poe's works, Birthday and keeps his final resting place(Westminster Church) open to the public. Many people from around the world travel to Baltimore just to visit the grave of Mr. Poe. He is a legend. This will not be fair to his Фаны или to anyone else who come to admire the wonderful little cemetery and church.
People do not just go to this city for the Inner Harbor или go to a sporting event. They come to see Poe. They want to see the Главная where he lived his last days and visit his grave. Did Baltimore city forget there is a football team named after one of his famous works?
This decision should be reconsidered if Ты want to keep tourism booming in Baltimore City.
Please sign petition below;
link
People do not just go to this city for the Inner Harbor или go to a sporting event. They come to see Poe. They want to see the Главная where he lived his last days and visit his grave. Did Baltimore city forget there is a football team named after one of his famous works?
This decision should be reconsidered if Ты want to keep tourism booming in Baltimore City.
Please sign petition below;
link
For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,
Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,
Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
Поиск narrowly the lines!- they hold a treasure
Divine- a talisman- an amulet
That must be worn at heart. Поиск well the measure-
The words- the syllables! Do not forget
The trivialest point, или Ты may lose your labor
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus
Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, by poets- as the name is a poet's, too,
Its letters, although naturally lying
Like the knight Pinto- Mendez Ferdinando-
Still form a synonym for Truth- Cease trying!
Ты will not read the riddle, though Ты do the best Ты can do.
Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,
Shall find her own sweet name, that nestling lies
Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.
Поиск narrowly the lines!- they hold a treasure
Divine- a talisman- an amulet
That must be worn at heart. Поиск well the measure-
The words- the syllables! Do not forget
The trivialest point, или Ты may lose your labor
And yet there is in this no Gordian knot
Which one might not undo without a sabre,
If one could merely comprehend the plot.
Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering
Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus
Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing
Of poets, by poets- as the name is a poet's, too,
Its letters, although naturally lying
Like the knight Pinto- Mendez Ferdinando-
Still form a synonym for Truth- Cease trying!
Ты will not read the riddle, though Ты do the best Ты can do.
In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not Любовь 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 или bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Любовь 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.
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not Любовь 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 или bribe me to define-
Nor Love- although the Любовь 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.
