Edgar Allan Poe
                                      To My Mother
                                    Edgar Allan Poe

Because I feel that, in Heavens above,
The angels, whispering to one another,
Can find, among their burning terms of love,
None so devotional as that of "Mother,"
There for by that dear name I long have called you-
You who are more than mothre unto me,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death instaled you
In setting my VIrginia's spirit free.
My mother-my own mother, who died early,
Was but the mother of myself; but you
Are mother to the one that I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother i knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.