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"source_title": "To Isadore",
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"title": "To Isadore",
"author": "Edgar Allan Poe",
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"summary": "This poem expresses an adoration and profound admiration for a figure named Isadore, who is depicted as a captivating and enchanting presence. Set against the imagery of nature and dreams, the poet describes Isadore as a dreamlike figure with violet eyes, a gentle voice, and a captivating aura that enthrall the speaker. The language evokes a sense of serenity, beauty, and longing, as the speaker conveys a desire to be close to Isadore's ethereal presence. The poem uses rich, vivid imagery and lyrical descriptions to convey the depth of the speaker's feelings and the impact that Isadore has on their senses and emotions. Overall, it articulates themes of love, beauty, and the enchanting power of memory and dreams.",
"clean_summary": "This poem expresses an adoration and profound admiration for a figure named Isadore, who is depicted as a captivating and enchanting presence. Set against the imagery of nature and dreams, the poet describes Isadore as a dreamlike figure with violet eyes, a gentle voice, and a captivating aura that enthrall the speaker. The language evokes a sense of serenity, beauty, and longing, as the speaker conveys a desire to be close to Isadore's ethereal presence. The poem uses rich, vivid imagery and lyrical descriptions to convey the depth of the speaker's feelings and the impact that Isadore has on their senses and emotions. Overall, it articulates themes of love, beauty, and the enchanting power of memory and dreams.",
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"I Beneath the vine-clad eaves, Whose shadows fall before Thy lowly cottage door Under the lilac’s tremulous leaves— Within thy snowy claspeèd hand The purple flowers it bore. Last eve in dreams, I saw thee stand, Like queenly nymphs from Fairy-land— Enchantress of the flowery wand, Most beauteous Isadore!",
"II And when I bade the dream Upon thy spirit flee, Thy violet eyes to me Upturned, did overflowing seem With the deep, untold delight Of Love’s serenity; Thy classic brow, like lilies white And pale as the Imperial Night Upon her throne, with stars bedight, Enthralled my soul to thee!",
"III Ah! ever I behold Thy dreamy, passionate eyes, Blue as the languid skies Hung with the sunset’s fringe of gold; Now strangely clear thine image grows, And olden memories Are startled from their long repose Like shadows on the silent snows When suddenly the night-wind blows Where quiet moonlight lies.",
"IV Like music heard in dreams, Like strains of harps unknown, Of birds forever flown Audible as the voice of streams That murmur in some leafy dell, I hear thy gentlest tone, And Silence cometh with her spell Like that which on my tongue doth dwell, When tremulous in dreams I tell My love to thee alone!",
"V In every valley heard, Floating from tree to tree, Less beautiful to me, The music of the radiant bird, Than artless accents such as thine Whose echoes never flee! Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine:— For uttered in thy tones benign (Enchantress!) this rude name of mine Doth seem a melody!"
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"body_text": "I Beneath the vine-clad eaves, Whose shadows fall before Thy lowly cottage door Under the lilac’s tremulous leaves— Within thy snowy claspeèd hand The purple flowers it bore. Last eve in dreams, I saw thee stand, Like queenly nymphs from Fairy-land— Enchantress of the flowery wand, Most beauteous Isadore!\n\nII And when I bade the dream Upon thy spirit flee, Thy violet eyes to me Upturned, did overflowing seem With the deep, untold delight Of Love’s serenity; Thy classic brow, like lilies white And pale as the Imperial Night Upon her throne, with stars bedight, Enthralled my soul to thee!\n\nIII Ah! ever I behold Thy dreamy, passionate eyes, Blue as the languid skies Hung with the sunset’s fringe of gold; Now strangely clear thine image grows, And olden memories Are startled from their long repose Like shadows on the silent snows When suddenly the night-wind blows Where quiet moonlight lies.\n\nIV Like music heard in dreams, Like strains of harps unknown, Of birds forever flown Audible as the voice of streams That murmur in some leafy dell, I hear thy gentlest tone, And Silence cometh with her spell Like that which on my tongue doth dwell, When tremulous in dreams I tell My love to thee alone!\n\nV In every valley heard, Floating from tree to tree, Less beautiful to me, The music of the radiant bird, Than artless accents such as thine Whose echoes never flee! Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine:— For uttered in thy tones benign (Enchantress!) this rude name of mine Doth seem a melody!",
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"I Beneath the vine-clad eaves, Whose shadows fall before Thy lowly cottage door Under the lilac's tremulous leaves - Within thy snowy claspeèd hand The purple flowers it bore. Last eve in dreams, I saw thee stand, Like queenly nymphs from Fairy-land - Enchantress of the flowery wand, Most beauteous Isadore!",
"II And when I bade the dream Upon thy spirit flee, Thy violet eyes to me Upturned, did overflowing seem With the deep, untold delight Of Love's serenity; Thy classic brow, like lilies white And pale as the Imperial Night Upon her throne, with stars bedight, Enthralled my soul to thee!",
"III Ah! ever I behold Thy dreamy, passionate eyes, Blue as the languid skies Hung with the sunset's fringe of gold; Now strangely clear thine image grows, And olden memories Are startled from their long repose Like shadows on the silent snows When suddenly the night-wind blows Where quiet moonlight lies.",
"IV Like music heard in dreams, Like strains of harps unknown, Of birds forever flown Audible as the voice of streams That murmur in some leafy dell, I hear thy gentlest tone, And Silence cometh with her spell Like that which on my tongue doth dwell, When tremulous in dreams I tell My love to thee alone!",
"V In every valley heard, Floating from tree to tree, Less beautiful to me, The music of the radiant bird, Than artless accents such as thine Whose echoes never flee! Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine: - For uttered in thy tones benign (Enchantress!) this rude name of mine Doth seem a melody!"
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"clean_text": "I Beneath the vine-clad eaves, Whose shadows fall before Thy lowly cottage door Under the lilac's tremulous leaves - Within thy snowy claspeèd hand The purple flowers it bore. Last eve in dreams, I saw thee stand, Like queenly nymphs from Fairy-land - Enchantress of the flowery wand, Most beauteous Isadore!\n\nII And when I bade the dream Upon thy spirit flee, Thy violet eyes to me Upturned, did overflowing seem With the deep, untold delight Of Love's serenity; Thy classic brow, like lilies white And pale as the Imperial Night Upon her throne, with stars bedight, Enthralled my soul to thee!\n\nIII Ah! ever I behold Thy dreamy, passionate eyes, Blue as the languid skies Hung with the sunset's fringe of gold; Now strangely clear thine image grows, And olden memories Are startled from their long repose Like shadows on the silent snows When suddenly the night-wind blows Where quiet moonlight lies.\n\nIV Like music heard in dreams, Like strains of harps unknown, Of birds forever flown Audible as the voice of streams That murmur in some leafy dell, I hear thy gentlest tone, And Silence cometh with her spell Like that which on my tongue doth dwell, When tremulous in dreams I tell My love to thee alone!\n\nV In every valley heard, Floating from tree to tree, Less beautiful to me, The music of the radiant bird, Than artless accents such as thine Whose echoes never flee! Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine: - For uttered in thy tones benign (Enchantress!) this rude name of mine Doth seem a melody!",
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"I Beneath the vine-clad eaves, Whose shadows fall before Thy lowly cottage door Under the lilac's tremulous leaves - Within thy snowy claspeèd hand The purple flowers it bore. Last eve in dreams, I saw thee stand, Like queenly nymphs from Fairy-land - Enchantress of the flowery wand, Most beauteous Isadore!",
"II And when I bade the dream Upon thy spirit flee, Thy violet eyes to me Upturned, did overflowing seem With the deep, untold delight Of Love's serenity; Thy classic brow, like lilies white And pale as the Imperial Night Upon her throne, with stars bedight, Enthralled my soul to thee!",
"III Ah! ever I behold Thy dreamy, passionate eyes, Blue as the languid skies Hung with the sunset's fringe of gold; Now strangely clear thine image grows, And olden memories Are startled from their long repose Like shadows on the silent snows When suddenly the night-wind blows Where quiet moonlight lies.",
"IV Like music heard in dreams, Like strains of harps unknown, Of birds forever flown Audible as the voice of streams That murmur in some leafy dell, I hear thy gentlest tone, And Silence cometh with her spell Like that which on my tongue doth dwell, When tremulous in dreams I tell My love to thee alone!",
"V In every valley heard, Floating from tree to tree, Less beautiful to me, The music of the radiant bird, Than artless accents such as thine Whose echoes never flee! Ah! how for thy sweet voice I pine: - For uttered in thy tones benign (Enchantress!) this rude name of mine Doth seem a melody!"
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