Ulalume 数字艺术 4 / 8 1

The skies they were ashen and sober;
The leaves they were crisped and sere -
The leaves they were withering and sere:
It was night, in the lonesome October
Of my most immemorial year:
It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,
In the misty mid region of Weir: -
It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,
In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
E. Poe
"Ulalume"