Ulalume Jeff Buckley

(E.A.Poe)
Jeff performed a reading of this poem by Edgar Allan Poe for the tribute compilation CLOSED ON ACCOUNT OF RABIES, produced by Hal Willner

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

Here once, through an alley, Titanic
Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul
Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul
These were days when my heart was volcanic
As the scoriac rivers that roll
As the lavas that restlessly roll
Their sulphurous currents down Yaaneck
In the ultimate climes of the pole
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaaneck
In the realms of the boreal pole

Our talk had been serious and sober
But our thoughts they were palsied and sere
Our memories were treacherous and sere
For we knew not the month was October
And we marked not the night of the year
(Ah, night of all nights in the year!);
We noted not the dim lake of Auber
(Though once we had journeyed down here)
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber
Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir