My 2 favorite Edgar Poe poems

Basically a love poem of his & then a poem from him grieving. It's sad why he wrote "Lenore" but damn did he do such a beautiful job expressing all that! 

His love poem "A Valentine" he wrote so beautifully. Then the mystery of who it was about made it a bit of a mystery solving game for people, but personally I just love how well he put that poem together. 

A Valentine

For her this rhyme is penned, whose luminous eyes,

     Brightly expressive as the twins of Leda,

Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling lies

     Upon the page, enwrapped from every reader.

Search narrowly the lines! -- they hold a treasure

     Divine -- a talisman -- an amulet

That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure --

     The words -- the syllables! Do not forget

The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor!

     And yet there is in this no Gordian knot

Which one might not undo without a sabre,

     If one could merely comprehend the plot.

Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering

     Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdu,

Three eloquent words oft uttered in the hearing

     Of poets, by poets -- as the name is a poet's, too.

Its letters, although naturally lying

     Like the knight Pinto -- Mendez Ferdinando --

Still form a synonym for Truth. -- Cease trying!

     You will not read the riddle, though you do the best you can do.

Lenore

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! — the spirit flown forever!

Let the bell toll! — a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river: —

And, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear? — weep now or never more!

See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!

Come, let the burial rite be read — the funeral song be sung! —

An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young —

A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.

"Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and ye hated her for her pride;

And, when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her — that she died: —

How shall the ritual, then, be read? — the requiem how be sung

By you — by yours, the evil eye — by yours the slanderous tongue

That did to death the innocence that died and died so young?"

Peccavimus; yet rave not thus! but let a Sabbath song

Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong!

The sweet Lenore "hath gone before," with Hope that flew beside,

Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride —

For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies,

The life upon her yellow hair, but not within her eyes —

The life still there upon her hair — the death upon her eyes.

"Avaunt! — avaunt! from fiends below the indignant ghost is riven —

From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven —

From grief and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven! —

Let no bell toll, then! — lest her soul, amid its hallowed mirth,

Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damnéd Earth!

And I — to-night my heart is light! — no dirge will I upraise,

But waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!"