Some of his stories and poems have been made into short skits. One example is The Raven. When I looked him up on Google, he had over 1 billion views! I cannot stress it to you enough how he changed America! He was not only loved por America, he is loved all over the world. Edgar Allan Poe was an amazing poet and story writer and was loved por all. Edgar Allan Poe lived a life of tragedy and misery. So if he was alive today, I think he would be very appalled to see how much he changed the world, and how much he is loved. Also if he was alive today. I think he would certainly see why I consider him to be, "The World's Greatest"!
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 fãs or 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 or go to a sporting event. They come to see Poe. They want to see the início 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 you 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 or go to a sporting event. They come to see Poe. They want to see the início 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 you want to keep tourism booming in Baltimore City.
Please sign petition below;
link
There are some qualities- some incorporate things,
That have a double life, which thus is made
A type of that twin entity which springs
From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade.
There is a two-fold Silence- sea and shore-
Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places,
Newly with grama o'ergrown; some solemn graces,
Some human memories and tearful lore,
Render him terrorless: his name's "No More."
He is the corporate Silence: dread him not!
No power hath he of evil in himself;
But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!)
Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf,
That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod
No foot of man,) commend thyself to God!
That have a double life, which thus is made
A type of that twin entity which springs
From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade.
There is a two-fold Silence- sea and shore-
Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places,
Newly with grama o'ergrown; some solemn graces,
Some human memories and tearful lore,
Render him terrorless: his name's "No More."
He is the corporate Silence: dread him not!
No power hath he of evil in himself;
But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!)
Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf,
That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod
No foot of man,) commend thyself to God!
Romance, who loves to nod and sing,
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been- a most familiar bird-
Taught me my alphabet to say-
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child- with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hora with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings-
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away- forbidden things!
My coração would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
With drowsy head and folded wing,
Among the green leaves as they shake
Far down within some shadowy lake,
To me a painted paroquet
Hath been- a most familiar bird-
Taught me my alphabet to say-
To lisp my very earliest word
While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child- with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high
With tumult as they thunder by,
I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky.
And when an hora with calmer wings
Its down upon my spirit flings-
That little time with lyre and rhyme
To while away- forbidden things!
My coração would feel to be a crime
Unless it trembled with the strings.
