ULALUME

The skies 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.....

Edgar Allan Poe