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Full text of "The poetical works of Edgar Allan Poe;"

THE 

POETICAL WORKS 

OF 

EDGAR ALLAN POE 



VTith Illustrations by 

EDMUND DULAC 




NEW ^JB^ YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 



PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



PS 

3k 05 
fll 
1-92-1 



CONTENTS 



THE BELLS .... 13 

EULALIE A SONG . . . .21 

ANNABEL LEE . . . .23 

SONNET SILENCE . . . .27 

THE RAVEN .... 29 

To ONE IN PARADISE . 41 

LENORE . \ . . . .44 

DREAMS ..... 48 

To HELEN (I saw thee once once only years ago) 51 

THE HAUNTED PALACE . . 56 

A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM . . .60 

THE CITY IN THE SEA . 62 

w 



1896657 



CONTENTS 



To F f i . . . 66 

THE SLEEPER . , . v 68 

ULALUME . . . . 73 

ROMANCE . . . . 80 

SONNET TO SCIENCE ... 82 

ELDORADO . . . . 83 

To M. (O ! I care not that my earthly lot) * 86 

THE CONQUEROR WORM ... 88 

SONNET To ZANTE ... 91 

To M. L. S. . . . .92 

To THE RIVER 94 

A DREAM . . . .96 

AL AARAAF .... 98 

To F s S. O D . . .125 

BRIDAL BALLAD .... 126 
To MY MOTHER .... 129 

[vij 



CONTENTS 



To HELEN (Helen, thy beauty is to me) . . 131 

THE LAKE To . . . 133 

THE VALLEY OF UNREST . . . 135 

THE HAPPIEST DAY, THE HAPPIEST HOUR . 137 

CATHOLIC HYMN .... 139 

To (Not long ago, the writer of these 

lines) . . . . 140 
EVENING STAR . . . .142 
STANZAS . . . . .144 

SPIRITS OF THE DEAD . . . 147 

ISRAFEL ..... 150 

SONG (I saw thee on thy bridal day) . . 154 

To (The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see) . 156 

FAIRY-LAND .... 157 

THE COLISEUM .... 160 

DREAMLAND .... 164 

[vii] 



CONTENTS 

FOR ANNIE .... 168 

ALONE . . . . .175 

TAMERLANE . . . .177 



[viii] 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



THE BELLS . . . Frontispiece 

THE BELLS .... 14 

THE BELLS 18 

ANNABEL LEE . . . .24 

SILENCE ..... 28 

THE RAVEN .... 34 

To ONE IN PARADISE ... 42 

LENORE ..... 46 

To HELEN (MRS. WHITMAN) ... 52 

THE HAUNTED PALACE ... 56 

THE CITY IN THE SEA ... 64 

[ix] 



ILLUSTRATIONS 


- j 


THE SLEEPER 


?o 


ULALUME 


76 


ELDORADO . . ; 


84 


THE CONQUEROR WORM 


. . 88 


To THE RIVER 


94 


AL AARAAF 


104 


AL AARAAF 


112 


BRIDAL BALLAD 


126 


To HELEN (MRS. STANNARD) . 


132 


THE VALLEY OF UNREST 


136 


TTn TlV-Tp l\yf APTT? T OTTT^T? ^TTTTTV^ 


I4O 




ISRAFEL .... 


150 


FAIRY-LAND 


158 


DREAMLAND 


164 


ALONE .... 


174 


TAMERLANE 


178 


TAMERLANE 


184 



[x] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 
EDGAR ALLAN POE 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF 
EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Bells 
i. 

HEAR the sledges with the bells 

Silver bells! 

What a world of merriment their melody foretells ! 
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, 

In the icy air of night ! 
While the stars, that oversprinkle 
All the heavens, seem to twinkle 
With a crystalline delight; 
Keeping time, time, time, 
In a sort of Runic rhyme, 

[13] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Bells CONTINUED 

To the tintinabulation that so musically wells 
From the bells, bells, bells, bells, 

Bells, bells, bells 
From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. 

II. 
Hear the mellow wedding bells, 

Golden bells! 

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells ! 
Through the balmy air of night 
How they ring out their delight ! 
From the molten golden-notes, 

And all in tune, 
What a liquid ditty floats 
To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats 

On the moon! 

Oh, from out the sounding cells, 
What a gush of euphony voluminously wells ! 

[14] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Bells CONTINUED 

How it swells! 
How it dwells 
On the Future ! how it tells 
Of the rapture that impels 
To the swinging and the ringing 

Of the bells, bells, bells, 
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, 

Bells, bells, bells 
To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells ! 



III. 

Hear the loud alarum bells 

Brazen bells! 

What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells! 
In the startled ear of night 
How they scream out their affright! 

[15] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Bells CONTINUED 

Too much horrified to speak 
They can only shriek, shriek, 

Out of tune, 

In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, 
In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire, 
Leaping higher, higher, higher, 
With a desperate desire, 
And a resolute endeavour. 
Now now to sit or never, 
By the side of the pale-faced moon. 
Oh, the bells, bells, bells! 
What a tale their terror tells 

Of Despair! 

How they clang, and clash, and roar! 
What a horror they outpour 
On the bosom of the palpitating air ! 
Yet the ear it fully knows, 

[16] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Bells CONTINUED 

By the twanging, 
And the clanging, 
How the danger ebbs and flows : 
Yet the ear distinctly tells, 
In the jangling, 
And the wrangling, 
How the danger sinks and swells, 
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells 

Of the bells 
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, 

Bells, bells, bells 
In the clamour and the clangour of the bells! 



IV. 

Hear the tolling of the bells- 
Iron bells ! 



[17] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Bells CONTINUED 

What a world of solemn thought their monody compels ! 
In the silence of the night, 
How we shiver with affright 
At the melancholy menace of their tone ! 
For every sound that floats 
From the rust within their throats 

Is a groan. 

And the people ah, the people 
They that dwell up in the steeple, 

All alone, 
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, 

In that muffled monotone, 
Feel a glory in so rolling 

On the human heart a stone 
They are neither man nor woman 
They are neither brute nor human 
They are Ghouls: 

[18] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Bells CONTINUED 

And their king it is who tolls ; 

And he rolls, rolls, rolls, 
Rolls 

A paean from the bells! 
And his merry bosom swells 

With the paean of the bells ! 
And he dances, and he yells ; 
Keeping time, time, time, 
In a sort of Runic rhyme, 

To the paean of the bells 

Of the bells: 

Keeping time, time, time, 
In a sort of Runic rhyme, 

To the throbbing of the bells 
Of the bells, bells, bells 

To the sobbing of the bells; 
Keeping time, time, time, 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Bells CONTINUED 

As he knells, knells, knells, 
In a happy Runic rhyme, 

To the rolling of the bells 
Of the bells, bells, bells: 

To the tolling of the bells, 
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells- 
Bells, bells, bells 
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. 



[20] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Eulalie A Song 

I DWELT alone 
In a world of moan, 
And my soul was a stagnant tide, 

Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride 
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling 
bride. 

Ah, less less bright 
The stars of the night 
Than the eyes of the radiant girl ! 
And never a flake 
That the vapour can make 
With the moon-tints of purple and pearl, 
Can vie with the modest Eulalie s most unregarded curl 

[21] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A Song CONTINUED 

Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie s most humble 
and careless curl. 

Now doubt now Pain 
Come never again, 
For her soul gives me sigh for sigh, 
And all day long 
Shines, bright and strong, 
Astarte within the sky, 

While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye 
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye. 



[22] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Annabel Lee 

IT was many and many a year ago, 

In a kingdom by the sea, 
That a maiden there lived whom you may know 

By the name of ANNABEL LEE ; 
And this maiden she lived with no other thought 

Than to love and be loved by me. 



I was a child and she was a child, 

In this kingdom by the sea ; 
But we loved with a love which was more than love 

I and my Annabel Lee ; 

[23] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Annabel Lee CONTINUED 

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven 
Coveted her and me. 



And this was the reason that, long ago, 
In this kingdom by the sea, 

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling 

My beautiful Annabel Lee ; 

So that her highborn kinsmen came 
And bore her away from me, 

To shut her up in a sepulchre 

In this kingdom by the sea. 



The angels, not half so happy in heaven, 

Went envying her and me 
Yes ! that was the reason (as all men know, 

[24] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Annabel Lee CONTINUED 

In this kingdom by the sea) 
That the wind came out of the cloud by night, 
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee. 

But our love it was stronger by far than the love 

Of those who were older than we 

Of many far wiser than we 
And neither the angels in heaven above, 

Nor the demons down under the sea, 
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. 



For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; 
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes 

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee ; 

[25] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Annabel Lee CONTINUED 

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side 

Of my darling my darling my life and my bride, 

In her sepulchre there by the sea, 

In her tomb by the sounding sea. 



[26] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Sonnet Silence 

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 grass 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!) 

[27] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Sonnet Silence CONTINUED 

Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf, 
That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod 
No foot of man), commend thyself to God! 



[28] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven 

ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and 

weary, 
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten 

lore, 
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a 

tapping, 
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber 

door. 
Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber 

door 

Only this, and nothing more." 

[29] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, 

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the 
floor. 

Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to bor 
row 

From my books surcease of sorrow sorrow for the lost 
Lenore 

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name 
Lenore 

Nameless here for evermore. 

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple cur 
tain 

Thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never felt 
before ; 

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood re 
peating, 

[30] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

" Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber 

door 
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber 

door ; 

This it is, and nothing more." 



Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer, 

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I im 
plore ; 

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came 
rapping, 

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber 
door, 

That I scarce was sure I heard you," here I opened wide 
the door; 

Darkness there, and nothing more. 

[31] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there won 
dering, fearing, 

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to 
dream before ; 

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no 
token, 

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, 
"Lenore!" 

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, 
"Lenore!" 

Merely this, and nothing more. 

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me 
burning, 

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than be 
fore. 

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window 
lattice : 

[32] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery ex 
plore 

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore ; 
Tis the wind and nothing more." 



Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and 

flutter, 

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore ; 
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or 

stayed he; 
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber 

door 
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber 

door 

Perched, and sat, and nothing more. 

[33] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, 
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore, 
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art 

sure no craven, 
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the 

Nightly shore 
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night s Plutonian 

shore!" 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so 

plainly, 

Though its answer little meaning little relevancy bore; 
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being 
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber 

door 
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber 

door, 

With such name as "Nevermore." 

[34] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke 
only 

That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did out 
pour. 

Nothing further then he uttered not a feather then he 
fluttered 

Till I scarcely more than muttered, "other friends have 
flown before 

On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown 
before." 

Then the bird said, "Nevermore." 

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, 
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and 

store, 
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful 

Disaster 

[35] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one 

burden bore 
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden 

bore 

Of Never nevermore/ " 



But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, 
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and 

bust and door; 
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to 

linking 
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of 

yore 
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous 

bird of yore 

Meant in croaking "Nevermore." 

[36] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable ex 
pressing 

To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom s 
core ; 

This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease re 
clining 

On the cushion s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated 
o er, 

But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating 
o er, 

She shall press, ah, nevermore! 



Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an 

unseen censer 
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted 

floor. 

[37] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee by these angels 

he hath sent thee 
Respite respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of 

Lenore ! 
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost 

Lenore !" 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore !" 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird 
or devil! 

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee 
here ashore, 

Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land en 
chanted 

On this home by horror haunted tell me truly, I 
implore 

Is there is there balm in Gilead? tell me tell me, 
I implore!" 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 

[38] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil prophet still, if bird 

or devil ! 
By that Heaven that bends above us by that God we 

both adore 
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant 

Aidenn, 
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name 

Lenore 
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name 

Lenore." 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 



"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I 

shrieked, upstarting 
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night s Plutonian 

shore ! 

[39] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Raven CONTINUED 

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath 

spoken ! 
Leave my loneliness unbroken ! quit the bust above my 

door! 
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from 

off my door!" 

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is 

sitting 

On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; 
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon s that is 

dreaming, 
And the lamplight o er him streaming throws his shadow 

on the floor; 
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on 

the floor 

Shall be lifted nevermore! 

[40] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To One in Paradise 

THOU wast all that to me, love, 
For which my soul did pine 

A green isle in the sea, love, 
A fountain and a shrine, 

All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, 
And all the flowers were mine. 



Ah, dream too bright to last ! 

Ah, starry Hope! that didst arise 
But to be overcast! 



[41] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To One in Paradise CONTINUED 

A voice from out the Future cries, 
"On! on! but o er the Past 

(Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies 
Mute, motionless, aghast! 



For, alas! alas! with me 

The light of Life is o er! 

"No more no more no more " 
(Such language holds the solemn sea 

To the sands upon the shore) 
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree 

Or the stricken eagle soar! 



And all my days are trances, 
And all my nightly dreams 

[42] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To One in Paradise CONTINUED 

Are where thy grey eye glances, 

And where thy footstep gleams 
In what ethereal dances, 
By what eternal streams. 



[43] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



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 

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

Lenore ! 
Come! let the burial rite be read the funeral song be 

sung ! 

[44] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



L en Ore CONTINUED 

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 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?" 

[45] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Leno re CONTINUED 

Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and 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 ! 

[46] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Lenore CONTINUED 

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

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

And I! to-night my heart is light! no dirge will I up 
raise, 

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



[47] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Dreams 

OH! that my young life were a lasting dream! 

My spirit not awakening, till the beam 

Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. 

Yes! tho that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 

Twere better than the cold reality 

Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, 

And hath been still, upon the lovely earth, 

A chaos of dqep passion, from his birth. 

But should it be that dream eternally 

Continuing as dreams have been to me 

In my young boyhood should it thus be given, 

Twere folly still to hope for higher Heaven. 

[48] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

For I have revell d, when the sun was bright 

F the summer sky, in dreams of living light 

And loveliness, have left my very heart 

In climes of my imagining, apart 

From mine own home, with beings that have been 

Of mine own thought what more could I have seen? 

Twas once and only once and the wild hour 

From my remembrance shall not pass some power 

Or spell had bound me twas the chilly wind 

Came o er me in the night, and left behind 

Its image on my spirit or the moon 

Shone on my slumbers in her lofty noon 

Too coldly or the stars howe er it was 

That dream was as that night-wind let it pass. 

I have been happy, tho in a dream. 

I have been happy and I love the theme: 

Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life, 

[49] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Dreams CONTINUED 

As in that fleeting, shadowy, misty strife 

Of semblance with reality, which brings 

To the delirious eye, more lovely things 

Of Paradise and Love and all our own! 

Than young Hope in his sunniest hour hath known. 



[50] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To Helen 

[Helen was Mrs. Whitman.] 

I SAW thee once once only years ago : 

I must not say how many but not many. 

It was a July midnight; and from out 

A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, 

Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven, 

There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, 

With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, 

Upon the upturned faces of a thousand 

Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, 

Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe 

Fell on the upturned faces of these roses 

That gave out, in return for the love-light, 

[SO 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To Helen CONTINUED 

Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death 
Fell on the upturned faces of the roses, 
That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted 
By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence. 

Clad all in white, upon a violet bank 

I saw thee half-reclining; while the moon 

Fell on the upturn d faces of the roses, 

And on thine own, upturn d alas, in sorrow! 

Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight 
Was it not Fate (whose name is also Sorrow) 
That bade me pause before that garden-gate, 
To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses? 
No footstep stirred: the hated world all slept, 
Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! oh, God! 

[52] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To Helen CONTINUED 

How my heart beats in coupling those two words ! 
Save only thee and me. I paused I looked 
And in an instant all things disappeared. 
(Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!) 



The pearly lustre of the moon went out: 

The mossy banks and the meandering paths, 

The happy flowers and the repining trees, 

Were seen no more: the very roses odours 

Died in the arms of the adoring airs. 

All all expired save thee save less than thou: 

Save only the divine light in thine eyes 

Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes. 

I saw but them they were the world to me! 

I saw but them saw only them for hours, 

Saw only them until the moon went down. 

[53] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To Helen CONTINUED 

What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten 
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! 

How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope! 
How silently serene a sea of pride! 
How daring an ambition; yet how deep 
How fathomless a capacity for love! 

But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight, 
Into a western couch of thunder-cloud; 
And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees 
Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained; 
They would not go they never yet have gone; 
Lighting my lonely pathway home that night, 
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since; 
They follow me they lead me through the years. 
They are my ministers yet I their slave. 

[54] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To Helen CONTINUED 

Their office is to illumine and enkindle 

My duty, to be saved by their bright light, 

And purified in their electric fire, 

And sanctified in their elysian fire. 

They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope), 

And are far up in Heaven the stars I kneel to 

In the sad, silent watches of my night; 

While even in the meridian glare of day 

I see them still two sweetly scintillant 

Venuses, unextinguished by the sun! 



[551 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Haunted Palace 

IN the greenest of our valleys 

By good angels tenanted, 
Once a fair and stately palace 

Radiant palace reared its head. 
In the monarch Thought s dominion 

It stood there ! 
Never seraph spread a pinion 

Over fabric half so fair ! 



Banners yellow, glorious, golden, 
On its roof did float and flow, 

[56] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Haunted Palace CONTINUED 

(This all this was in the olden 
Time long ago,) 

And every gentle air that dallied, 

In that sweet day, 
Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, 

A winged odour went away. 



Wanderers in that happy valley, 

Through two luminous windows, saw 
Spirits moving musically, 

To a lute s well-tuned law, 
Round about a throne where, sitting 

(Porphyrogene!) 
In state his glory well befitting, 

The ruler of the realm was seen. 



[57] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Haunted Palace CONTINUED 

And all with pearl and ruby glowing 

Was the fair palace door, 
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, 

And sparkling evermore, 
A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty 

Was but to sing, 
In voices of surpassing beauty, 

The wit and wisdom of their king. 

But evil things, in robes of sorrow, 

Assailed the monarch s high estate. 
(Ah, let us mourn! for never morrow 

Shall dawn upon him desolate!) 
And round about his home the glory 

That blushed and bloomed, 
Is but a dim-remembered story 

Of the old time entombed. 

[58] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Haunted Palace CONTINUED 

And travellers, now, within that valley, 

Through the red-litten windows see 
Vast forms, that move fantastically 

To a discordant melody, 
While, like a ghastly rapid river, 

Through the pale door 
A hideous throng rush out for ever 

And laugh but smile no more. 



[59] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A Dream Within a Dream 

TAKE this kiss upon the brow! 

And, in parting from you now, 

Thus much let me avow 

You are not wrong, who deem 

That my days have been a dream; 

Yet if hope has flown away 

In a night, or in a day, 

In a vision, or in none, 

Is it therefore the less gone? 

All that we see or seem 

Is but a dream within a dream. 

I stand amid the roar 

Of a surf-tormented shore, 



[60] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A Dream Within a Dream CONTINUED 
And I hold within my hand 
Grains of the golden sand 
How few! yet how they creep 
Through my fingers to the deep, 
While I weep while I weep! 
O God! can I not grasp 
Them with a tighter clasp? 
O God! can I not save 
One from the pitiless wave? 
Is all that we see or seem 
But a dream within a dream? 



[61] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The City in the Sea 

Lo ! Death has reared himself a throne 

In a strange city lying alone 

Far down within the dim West, 

Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best 

Have gone to their eternal rest. 

There shrines and palaces and towers 

(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) 

Resemble nothing that is ours. 

Around, by lifting winds forgot, 

Resignedly beneath the sky 

The melancholy waters lie. 

No rays from the holy heaven come down 

On the long night-time of that town; 

[62] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The City in the Sea CONTINUED 
But light from out the lurid sea 
Streams up the turrets silently 
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free 
Up domes up spires up kingly halls 
Up fanes up Babylon-like walls 
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers 
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers 
Up many and many a marvellous shrine 
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine 
The viol, the violet, and the vine. 

Resignedly beneath the sky 
The melancholy waters lie. 

So blend the turrets and shadows there 
That all seem pendulous in air, 
While from a proud tower in the town 
Death looks gigantically down. 

[63] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The City in the Sea CONTINUED 

There open fanes and gaping graves 
Yawn level with the luminous waves; 
But not the riches there that lie 
In each idol s diamond eye 
Not the gaily-jewelled dead 
Tempt the waters from their bed; 
For no ripples curl, alas ! 
Along that wilderness of glass 
No swellings tell that winds may be 
Upon some far-off happier sea 
No heavings hint that winds have been 
On seas less hideously serene. 

But lo, a stir is in the air ! 
The wave there is a movement there! 
As if the towers had thrust aside, 
In slightly sinking, the dull tide 

[64] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The City in the Sea CONTINUED 

As if their tops had feebly given 
A void within the filmy Heaven. 
The waves have now a redder glow 
The hours are breathing faint and low 
And when, amid no earthly moans, 

* 

Down, down that town shall settle hence, 
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones, 
Shall do it reverence. 



[651 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To F- 



[F is, presumably, Mrs. Frances Sargent Osgood.] 

BELOVED ! amid the earnest woes 
That crowd around my earthly path 

(Drear path, alas! where grows 

Not even one lonely rose) 
My soul at least a solace hath 

In dreams of thee, and therein knows 

An Eden of bland repose 

And thus thy memory is to me 
Like some enchanted far-off isle 



[66] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



TO F CONTINUED 

In some tumultuous sea 

Some ocean throbbing far and free 

With storms but where meanwhile 
Serenest skies continually 

Just o er that one bright island smile. 



[67] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Sleeper 

AT midnight, in the month of June, 
I stand beneath the mystic moon. 
An opiate vapour, dewy, dim, 
Exhales from out her golden rim, 
And, softly dripping, drop by drop, 
Upon the quiet mountain top, 
Steals drowsily and musically 
Into the universal valley. 

The rosemary nods upon the grave; 
The lily lolls upon the wave; 
Wrapping the fog about its breast, 
The ruin moulders into rest ; 

[68] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Sleeper CONTINUED 

Looking like Lethe, see! the lake 
A conscious slumber seems to take, 
And would not, for the world, awake. 
All Beauty sleeps ! and lo ! where lies 
Irene, with her Destinies! 



O, lady bright ! can it be right 

This window open to the night? 

The wanton airs, from the tree-top, 

Laughingly through the lattice drop 

The bodiless airs, a wizard rout, 

Flit through thy chamber in and out, 

And wave the curtain canopy 

So fitfully so fearfully 

Above the closed and fringed lid 

Neath which thy slumb ring soul lies hid, 



[69] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Sleeper CONTINUED 

That, o er the floor and down the wall, 
Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall ! 
Oh, lady dear, hast thou no fear? 
Why and what art thou dreaming here? 
Sure thou art come o er far-off seas, 
A wonder to these garden trees! 
Strange is thy pallor ! strange thy dress, 
Strange, above all, thy length of tress, 
And this all solemn silentness! 



The lady sleeps ! Oh, may her sleep, 
Which is enduring, so be deep ! 
Heaven have her in its sacred keep ! 
This chamber changed for one more holy, 
This bed for one more melancholy, 
I pray to God that she may lie 



[70] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Sleeper CONTINUED 

For ever with unopened eye, 
While the pale sheeted ghosts go by! 



My love, she sleeps ! Oh, may her sleep 

As it is lasting, so be deep ! 

Soft may the worms about her creep ! 

Far in the forest, dim and old, 

For her may some tall vault unfold 

Some vault that oft has flung its black 

And winged panels fluttering back, 

Triumphant, o er the crested palls, 

Of her grand family funerals 

Some sepulchre, remote, alone, 

Against whose portal she hath thrown, 

In childhood, many an idle stone 

Some tomb from out whose sounding door 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Sleeper CONTINUED 

She ne er shall force an echo more, 
Thrilling to think, poor child of sin 
It was the dead who groaned within. 



[72] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Ulalume 

THE skies they 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 

[73] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul. 
These were days when my heart was volcanic 

As the scoriae rivers that roll 

As the lavas that restlessly roll 
Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek 

In the ultimate climes of the pole 
That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek 

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 

[74] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

(Though once we had journeyed down here), 
Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber, 

Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir. 

And now, as the night was senescent, 
And star-dials pointed to morn 
As the star-dials hinted of morn 

At the end of our path a liquescent 
And nebulous lustre was born, 

Out of which a miraculous crescent 
Arose with a duplicate horn 

Astarte s bediamonded crescent 

Distinct with its duplicate horn. 

And I said "She is warmer than Dian: 
She rolls through an ether of sighs 



[75] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

She revels in a region of sighs: 
She has seen that the tears are not dry on 

These cheeks, where the worm never dies, 
And has come past the stars of the Lion, 

To point us the path to the skies 

To the Lethean peace of the skies 
Come up, in despite of the Lion, 

To shine on us with her bright eyes 
Come up through the lair of the Lion, 

With love in her luminous eyes." 



But Psyche, uplifting her finger, 

Said "Sadly this star I mistrust 
Her pallor I strangely mistrust: 

Oh, hasten ! oh, let us not linger ! 

Oh, fly! let us fly! for we must." 

[76] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

In terror she spoke, letting sink her 

Wings until they trailed in the dust 

In agony sobbed, letting sink her 

Plumes till they trailed in the dust 
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust. 

I replied "This is nothing but dreaming: 

Let us on by this tremulous light ! 

Let us bathe in this crystalline light ! 
Its Sybilic splendour is beaming 

With Hope and in Beauty to-night : 

See ! it flickers up the sky through the night ! 
Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming, 

And be sure it will lead us aright 
We safely may trust to a gleaming 

That cannot but guide us aright, 

Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night." 

[77] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, 
And tempted her out of her gloom 
And conquered her scruples and gloom; 

And we passed to the end of the vista, 

But were stopped by the door of a tomb 
By the door of a legended tomb ; 

And I said "What is written, sweet sister, 
On the door of this legended tomb?" 
She replied "Ulalume Ulalume 
Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume !" 



Then my heart it grew ashen and sober 

As the leaves that were crisped and sere 
As the leaves that were withering and sere; 

And I cried "It was surely October 

[78] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Ulalume CONTINUED 

On this very night of last year 
That I journeyed I journeyed down here- 
That I brought a dread burden down here- 
On this night of all nights in the year, 
Ah, what demon has tempted me here? 

Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber 
This misty mid region of Weir 

Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber, 
This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir." 



[79] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Romance 

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, 

[80] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Romance CONTINUED 

I have no time for idle cares 
Through gazing on the unquiet sky. 
And when an hour with calmer wings 
Its down upon my spirit flings 
That little time with lyre and rhyme 
To while away forbidden things! 
My heart would feel to be a crime 
Unless it trembled with the strings. 



[81] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Sonnet- -To Science 

SCIENCE! true daughter of Old Time thou art! 

Who alterest all things with thy peering eyes. 
Why preyest thou thus upon the poet s heart, 

Vulture, whose wings are dull realities? 
How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise, 

Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering 
To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies, 

Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing? 
Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car? 

And driven the Hamadryad from the wood 
To seek a shelter in some happier star? 

Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood, 
The Elfin from the green grass, and from me 
The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree? 

[82] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Eldorado 

GAILY bedight, 

A gallant knight, 
In sunshine and in shadow, 

Had journeyed long, 

Singing a song, 
In search of Eldorado. 



But he grew old 
This knight so bold 
And o er his heart a shadow 
Fell as he found 

[83] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 
E Idorado CONTINUED 

No spot of ground 
That looked like Eldorado. 



And, as his strength 
Failed him at length, 

He met a pilgrim shadow 
"Shadow," said he, 
"Where can it be 

This land of Eldorado?" 



"Over the Mountains 
Of the Moon, 
Down the Valley of the Shadow, 

[84] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Eldorado CONTINUED 

Ride, boldly ride," 
The shade replied 
"If you seek for Eldorado ! 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN FOE 



To M- 



O! I care not that my earthly lot 
Hath little of Earth in it, 

That years of love have been forgot 
In the fever of a minute : 

I heed not that the desolate 
Are happier, sweet, than I, 

But that you meddle with my fate 
Who am a passer by. 

It is not that my founts of bliss 
Are gushing strange ! with tears 

[86] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



TO M CONTINUED 

Or that the thrill of a single kiss 
Hath palsied many years 

Tis not that the flowers of twenty springs 
Which have withered as they rose 

Lie dead on my heart-strings 
With the weight of an age of snows. 

Not that the grass O ! may it thrive ! 

On my grave is growing or grown 
But that, while I am dead yet alive 

I cannot be, lady, alone. 



[87] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Conqueror Worm 

Lo ! tis a gala night 

Within the lonesome latter years! 
An angel throng, bewinged, bedight 

In veils, and drowned in tears, 
Sit in a theatre, to see 

A play of hopes and fears, 
While the orchestra breathes fitfully 

The music of the spheres. 

Mimes, in the form of God on high, 

Mutter and mumble low, 
And hither and thither fly 

Mere puppets they, who come and go 

[88] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Conquer Worm CONTINUED 

At bidding of vast formless things 
That shift the scenery to and fro, 
Flapping from out their Condor wings 
Invisible Woe! 



That motley drama oh, be sure 

It shall not be forgot! 
With its Phantom chased for evermore, 

By a crowd that seize it not, 
Through a circle that ever returneth in 

To the self-same spot, 
And much of Madness, and more of Sin, 

And Horror the soul of the plot. 

But see, amid the mimic rout 
A crawling shape intrude! 

[89] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Conquer Worm CONTINUED 

A blood-red thing that writhes from out 

The scenic solitude! 
It writhes! it writhes! with mortal pangs 

The mimes become its food, 
And seraphs sob at vermin fangs 

In human gore imbued. 



Out out are the lights out all ! 

And, over each quivering form, 
The curtain, a funeral pall, 

Comes down with the rush of a storm 
While the angels, all pallid and wan, 

Uprising, unveiling, affirm 
That the play is the tragedy, "Man," 

And its hero the Conqueror Worm. 



[90] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Sonnet To Zante 

FAIR isle, that from the fairest of all flowers, 

Thy gentlest of all gentle names dost take ! 
How many memories of what radiant hours 

At sight of thee and thine at once awake ! 
How many scenes of what departed bliss ! 

How many thoughts of what entombed hopes ! 
How many visions of a maiden that is 

No more no more upon thy verdant slopes ! 
No more! alas, that magical sad sound 

Transforming all! Thy charms shall please no more- 
Thy memory no more! Accursed ground 

Henceforth I hold thy flower-enamelled shore, 
O hyacinthine isle ! O purple Zante ! 

"Isola d oro ! Fior di Levante !" 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To M. L. S.- 

[Mrs. Marie Louise Shew.] 

OF all who hail thy presence as the morning 

Of all to whom thine absence is the night 

The blotting utterly from out high heaven 

The sacred sun of all who, weeping, bless thee 

Hourly for hope for life ah! above all, 

For the resurrection of deep-buried faith 

In Truth in Virtue in Humanity 

Of all who, on Despair s unhallowed bed 

Lying down to die, have suddenly arisen 

At thy soft-murmured words, "Let there be light!" 

At the soft-murmured words that were fulfilled 

[92] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



TO M. L. S. CONTINUED 

In the seraphic glancing of thine eyes 

Of all who owe thee most whose gratitude 

Nearest resembles worship oh, remember 

The truest the most fervently devoted, 

And think that these weak lines are written by him- 

By him who, as he pens them, thrills to think 

His spirit is communing with an angel s. 



[93] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To the River 

FAIR river ! in thy bright, clear flow 

Of crystal, wandering water, 
Thou art an emblem of the glow 

Of beauty the unhidden heart- 
The playful maziness of art 
In old Alberto s daughter; 



But when within thy wave she looks 
Which glistens then, and trembles 

Why, then, the prettiest of brooks 
Her worshipper resembles ; 

[94] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To the River CONTINUED 

For in my heart, as in thy stream, 
Her image deeply lies 

His heart which trembles at the beam 
Of her soul-searching eyes. 



[95] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A Dream 

IN visions of the dark night 

I have dreamed of joy departed 

But a waking dream of life and light 
Hath left me broken-hearted. 

Ah ! what is not a dream by day 
To him whose eyes are cast 

On things around him with a ray 
Turned back upon the past? 

That holy dream that holy dream, 
While all the world were chiding, 

[96] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A Dream CONTINUED 

Hath cheered me as a lovely beam, 
A lonely spirit guiding. 

What though that light, thro storm and night, 

So trembled from afar 
What could there be more purely bright 

In Truth s day-star? 



[97] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Al Aaraaf 

PART I. 

O ! NOTHING earthly save the ray 
(Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty s eye, 
As in those gardens where the day 
Springs from the gems of Circassy 

O ! nothing earthly save the thrill 
Of melody in woodland rill 
Or (music of the passion-hearted) 
Joy s voice so peacefully departed 
That like the murmur in the shell, 
Its echo dwelleth and will dwell 

[98] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

Oh, nothing of the dross of ours 
Yet all the beauty all the flowers 
That list our Love, and deck our bowers 
Adorn yon world afar, afar 
The wandering star. 



Twas a sweet time for Nesace for there 
Her world lay lolling on the golden air, 
Near four bright suns a temporary rest 
An oasis in desert of the blest. 
Away away mid seas of rays that roll 
Empyrean splendour o er th unchained soul 
The soul that scarce (the billows are so dense) 
Can struggle to its destin d eminence, 
To distant spheres, from time to time, she rode 
And late to ours, the favour d one of God 

[99] 



THE POETICAL WOtfKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I araa CONTINUED 

But, now, the ruler of an anchor d realm, 
She throws aside the sceptre leaves the helm, 
And, amid incense and high spiritual hymns, 
Laves in quadruple light her angel limbs. 

Now happiest, loveliest in yon lovely Earth, 
Whence sprang the "Idea of Beauty" into birth, 
(Falling in wreaths thro many a startled star, 
Like woman s hair mid pearls, until, afar, 
It lit on hills Achaian, and there dwelt) 
She looked into Infinity and knelt. 
Rich clouds, for canopies, about her curled 
Fit emblems of the model of her world 
Seen but in beauty not impeding sight 
Of other beauty glittering thro the light 
A wreath that twined each starry form around, 
And all the opal d air in colour bound. 

[100] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN FOE 



A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

All hurriedly she knelt upon a bed 
Of flowers : of liles such as rear d the head 
On the fair Capo Deucato, and sprang 
So eagerly around about to hang 

Upon the flying footsteps of deep pride 

Of her who lov d a mortal and so died. 

The Sephalica, budding with young bees, 
Upreared its purple stem around her knees: 
And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam d 
Inmate of highest stars, where erst it sham d 
All other loveliness : its honied dew 
(The fabled nectar that the heathen knew) 
Deliriously sweet, was dropp d from Heaven. 
And fell on gardens of the unforgiven 
In Trebizond and on a sunny flower 
So like its own above that, to this hour, 

[101] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

It still remaineth, torturing the bee 
With madness, and unwonted reverie : 
In Heaven, and all its environs, the leaf 
And blossom of the fairy plant in grief 
Disconsolate linger grief that hangs her head, 
Repenting follies that full long have fled, 
Heaving her white breast to the balmy air, 
Like guilty beauty, chasten d and more fair: 
Nyctanthes too, as sacred as the light 
She fears to perfume, perfuming the night: 
And Clytia, pondering between many a sun, 
While pettish tears adown her petals run: 
And that aspiring flower that sprang on Earth, 
And died, ere scarce exalted into birth, 
Bursting its odorous heart in spirit to wing 
Its way to Heaven, from garden of a king : 
And Valisnerian lotus, thither flown 

[102] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I dTdd CONTINUED 

From struggling with the waters of the Rhone: 

And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante! 

Isola d oro ! Fior di Levante ! 

And the Nelumbo bud that floats for ever 

With Indian Cupid down the holy river 

Fair flowers, and fairy ! to whose care is given 

To bear the Goddess song, in odours, up to Heaven 

"Spirit ! thou dwellest where, 

In the deep sky, 
The terrible and fair, 

In beauty vie ! 
Beyond the line of blue 

The boundary of the star 
Which turneth at the view 

Of thy barrier and thy bar 
Of the barrier overgone 

[103] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

By the comets who were cast 
From their pride and from their throne 

To be drudges till the last 
To be carriers of fire 

(The red fire of their heart) 
With speed that may not tire 

And with pain that shall not part 
Who livest that we know 

In Eternity we feel 
But the shadow of whose brow 

What spirit shall reveal? 
Tho the beings whom thy Nesace, 

Thy messenger hath known 
Have dream d for thy Infinity 

A model of their own 
Thy will is done, O God! 

The star hath ridden high 

[104] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

Thro many a tempest, but she rode 

Beneath thy burning eye; 
And here, in thought, to thee 

In thought that can alone 
Ascend thy empire and so be 

A partner of thy throne 
By winged Fantasy, 

My embassy is given, 
Till secrecy shall knowledge be 

In the environs of Heaven." 

She ceas d and buried then her burning cheek 

Abashed, amid the lilies there, to seek 

A shelter from the fervour of His eye ; 

For the stars trembled at the Deity. 

She stirr d not breath d not for a voice was there 

How solemnly pervading the calm air ! 

[105] 



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A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

A sound of silence on the startled ear 

Which dreamy poets name "the music of the sphere." 

Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call 
"Silence" which is the merest word of all. 
All Nature speaks, and ev n ideal things 
Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings 
But ah! not so when, thus, in realms on high 
The eternal voice of God is passing by, 
And the red winds are withering in the sky : 

"What tho in worlds which sightless cycles run 
Linked to a little system, and one sun 
Where all my life is folly and the crowd 
Still think my terrors but the thunder cloud, 
The storm, the earthquake, and the ocean-wrath 
(Ah ! will they cross me in my angrier path?) 

[106] 



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A I Aaraaf CONTINUED 

What tho in world which hold a single sun 
The sands of Time grow dimmer as they run, 
Yet thine is my resplendency, so given 
To bear my secrets thro the upper Heaven 

Leave tenantless thy crystal home, and fly, 

With all thy train, athwart the moony sky 

Apart like fire-flies in the Sicilian night, 

And wing to other worlds another light ! 

Divulge the secrets of thy embassy 

To the proud orbs that twinkle and so be 

To ev ry heart a barrier and a ban 

Lest the stars totter in the guilt of man !" 

Up rose the maiden in the yellow night, 
The single-mooned eve! on Earth we plight 
Our faith to one love and one moon adore 

[107] 



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A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

The birth-place of young Beauty had no more. 
As sprang that yellow star from downy hours 
Up rose the maiden from her shrine of flowers, 
And bent o er sheeny mountains and dim plain 
Her way, but left not yet her Therasaean reign. 



PART II. 

HIGH on a mountain of enamell d head 
Such as the drowsy shepherd on his bed 
Of giant pasturage lying at his ease, 
Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees 
With many a mutter d "hope to be forgiven" 
What time the moon is quadrated in Heaven- 
Of Rosy head that, towering far away 
Into the sunlight ether, caught the ray 
Of sunken suns at eve at noon of night, 

[108] 



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Al Aaraaj CONTINUED 

While the moon danc d with the fair stranger light 
Uprear d upon such height arose a pile 
Of gorgeous columns on th unburthen d air, 
Flashing from Parian marble that twin smile 
Far down upon the wave that sparkled there, 
And nursled the young mountain in its lair. 

Of molten stars their pavement, such as fall 

Thro the ebon air, besilvering the pall 

Of their own dissolution, while they die 

Adorning then the dwellings of the sky. 

A dome, by linked light from Heaven let down, 

Sat gently on these columns as a crown 

A window of one circular diamond, there, 

Look d out above into the purple air, 

And rays from God shot down that meteor chain 

And hallow d all the beauty twice again, 

[109] 



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Al araa CONTINUED 

Save when, between th Empyrean and that ring, 
Some eager spirit flapp d his dusky wing. 



But on the pillars Seraph eyes have seen 
The dimness of this world : that greyish green 
That Nature love s the best for Beauty s grave 
Lurk d in each cornice, round each architrave- 
And every sculptured cherub thereabout 
That from his marble dwelling peered out, 
Seem d earthly in the shadow of his niche 
Achaian statues in a world so rich? 
Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis 
From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss 
Of beautiful Gomorrah ! O, the wave 
Is now upon thee but too late to save ! 

[no] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

Sound loves to revel in a summer night: 
Witness the murmur of the grey twilight 
That stole upon the ear, in Eyraco, 
Of many a wild star-gazer long ago 
That stealeth ever on the ear of him 
Who, musing, gazeth on the distant dim, 
And sees the darkness coming as a cloud 
Is not its form its voice most palpable and loud? 

But what is this? it cometh, and it brings 
A music with it tis the rush of wings 
A pause and then a sweeping, falling strain 
And Nesace is in her halls again. 
From the wild energy of wanton haste 

Her cheeks were flushing, and her lips apart; 
And zone that clung around her gentle waist 

Had burst beneath the heaving of her heart. 

[in] 



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A I Aaraaf CONTINUED 

Within the centre of that hall to breathe, 
She paused and panted, Zanthe ! all beneath, 
The fairy light that kiss d her golden hair 
And long d to rest, yet could but sparkle there. 

Young flowers were whispering in melody 
To happy flowers that night and tree to tree ; 
Fountains were gushing music as they fell 
In many a star-lit grove, or moon-lit dell ; 
Yet silence came upon material things 
Fair flowers, bright waterfalls and angel wings- 
And sound alone that from the spirit sprang 
Bore burthen to the charm the maiden sang: 

" Neath the blue-bell or streamer] 

Or tufted wild spray 
That keeps, from the dreamer, 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I Adraaj CONTINUED 

The moonbeams away 
Bright beings! that ponder, 

With half closing eyes, 
On the stars which your wonder 

Hath drawn from the skies, 
Till they glance thro the shade, and 

Come down to your brow 
Like eyes of the maiden 

Who calls on you now 
Arise ! from your dreaming 

In violet bowers, 
To duty beseeming 

These star-litten hours 
And shake from your tresses 

Encumber d with dew 
The breath of those kisses 
That cumber them too 

[ii.ll 



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A I AcLTddj CONTINUED 

(O! how, without you, Love! 

Could angels be blest?) 
Those kisses of true Love 

That lull d ye to rest! 
Up! shake from your wing 

Each hindering thing: 
The dew of the night 

It would weigh down your flight; 
And true love caresses 

O, leave them apart! 
They are light on the tresses, 

But lead on the heart. 

Ligeia ! Ligeia ! 

My beautiful one! 
Whose harshest idea 

Will to melody run, 

[114] 



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A I Aaraaf CONTINUED 

O! is it thy will 

On the breezes to toss? 
Or, capriciously still, 

Like the lone Albatross, 
Incumbent on night 

(As she on the air) 
To keep watch with delight 

On the harmony there? 

Ligeia! wherever 

Thy image may be, 
No magic shall sever 

Thy music from thee. 
Thou hast bound many eyes 

In a dreamy sleep 
But the strains still arise 

Which thy vigilance keep 
The sound of the rain, 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I Aaraaf CONTINUED 

Which leaps down to the flower 

And dances again 

In the rhythm of the shower 
The murmur that springs 

From the growing of grass 
Are the music of things 

But are modell d, alas ! 
Away, then, my dearest, 

Oh! hie thee away 
To the springs that lie clearest 

Beneath the moon-ray 
To lone lake that smiles, 

In its dream of deep rest, 
At the many star-isles 

That en jewel its breast 
Where wild flowers, creeping, 

Have mingled their shade, 
On its margin is sleeping 

[116] 



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A I Aaraaf CONTINUED 

Full many a maid 
Some have left the cool glade, and 

Have slept with the bee 
Arouse them, my maiden, 

On moorland and lea 
Go! breathe on their slumber, 

All softly in ear, 
Thy musical number 

They slumbered to hear 
For what can awaken 

An angel so soon, 
Whose sleep hath been taken 

Beneath the cold moon, 
As the spell which no slumber 

Of witchery may test, 
The rhythmical number 

Which lull d him to rest?" 



fii7l 



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A I Adraaj CONTINUED 

Spirits in wing, and angels to the view, 

A thousand seraphs burst th Empyrean thro 

Young dreams still hovering on their drowsy flight " 

Seraphs in all but "Knowledge," the keen light 

That fell, refracted, thro thy bounds, afar, 

O Death ! from eye of God upon that star : 

Sweet was that error sweeter still that death 

Sweet was that error even with us the breath 

Of Science dims the mirror of our joy 

To them twere the Simoom, and would destroy 

For what (to them) availeth it to know 

That Truth is Falsehood or that Bliss is Woe? 

Sweet was their death with them to die was rife 

With the last ecstasy of satiate life 

Beyond that death no immortality 

But sleep that pondereth and is not "to be" 

And there! oh! may my weary spirit dwell 

Apart from Heaven s Eternity and yet how far from Hell ! 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

What guilty spirit, in what shrubbery dim, 

Heard not the stirring summons of that hymn? 

But two : they fell : for Heaven no grace imparts 

To those who hear not for their beating hearts. 

A maiden-angel and her seraph-lover 

O ! where (and ye may seek the wide skies over) 

Was Love, the blind, near sober Duty known? 

Unguided Love hath fallen mid "tears of perfect moan." 

He was a goodly spirit he who fell: 
A wanderer by moss-y-mantled well 
A gazer on the lights that shine above 
A dreamer in the moonbeam by his love: 
What wonder? for each star is eye-like there, 
And looks so sweetly down on Beauty s hair 
And they, and ev ry mossy spring were holy 
To his love-haunted heart and melancholy. 

[119] 



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A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

The night had found (to him a night of woe) 

Upon a mountain crag, young Angelo 

Beetling it bends athwart the solemn sky, 

And scowls on starry worlds that down beneath it lie. 

Here sat he with his love his dark eye bent 

With eagle gaze along the firmament: 

Now turn d it upon her but ever then 

It trembled to the orb of EARTH again. 

"lanthe, dearest, see how dim that ray! 
How lovely tis to look so far away ! 
She seem d not thus upon that autumn eve 
I left her gorgeous halls nor mourn d to leave 
That eve that eve I should remember well 
The sun-ray dropp d in Lemnos, with a spell 
On th arabesque carving of a gilded hall 
Wherein I sate, and on the draperied wall 
And on my eyelids O the heavy light ! 

[120] 



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A I Aaraaf CONTINUED 

How drowsily it weigh d them into night! 

On flowers, before, and mist, and love they ran 

With Persian Saadi in his Gulistan: 

But O that light! I slumber d Death, the while, 

Stole o er my senses in that lovely isle 

So softly that no single silken hair 

Awoke that slept or knew that he was there. 

"The last spot of Earth s orb I trod upon 
Was a proud temple called the Parthenon; 
More beauty clung around her column d wall 
Than ev n thy glowing bosom beats withal, 
And when old Time my wing did disenthral 
Thence sprang I as the eagle from his tower, 
And years I left behind me in an hour. 
What time upon her airy bounds I hung, 
One half the garden of her globe was flung 

[121] 



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A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

Unrolling as a chart unto my view 
Tenantless cities of the desert too ! 
lanthe, beauty crowded on me then, 
And half I wish d to be again of men." 

"My Angelo ! and why of them to be? 
A brighter dwelling place is here for thee 
And greener fields than in yon world above, 
And woman s loveliness and passionate love." 

"But, list, lanthe! when the air so soft 
Fail d, as my pennon d spirit leapt aloft, 
Perhaps my brain grew dizzy but the world 
I left so late was into chaos hurl d 
Sprang from her station, on the winds apart, 
And roll d, a flame, the fiery Heaven athwart. 
Methought, my sweet one, then I ceased to soar 
And fell not swiftly as I rose before, 

[122] 



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A I Aaraaj CONTINUED 

But with a downward, tremulous motion thro 
Light, brazen rays, this golden star unto! 
Nor long the measure of my falling hours, 
For nearest of all stars was thine to ours 
Dread star! that same, amid a night of mirth, 
A red Daedalion on the timid Earth." 

"We came and to thy Earth but not to us 
Be given our lady s bidding to discuss: 
We came, my love ; around, above, below, 
Gay fire-fly of the night we come and go, 
Nor ask a reason save the angel-nod 
She grants to us, as granted by her God 

But, Angelo, than thine grey Time unfurl d 
Never his fairy wing o er fairier world! 
Dim was its little disk, and angel eyes 
Alone could see the phantom in the skies, 
When first Al Aaraaf knew her course to be 

[123] 



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A I Aaraaf CONTINUED 

Headlong thitherward o er the starry sea 
But when its glory swell d upon the sky, 
As glowing Beauty s bust beneath man s eye, 
We paused before the heritage of men, 
And thy star trembled as doth Beauty then!" 

Thus, in discourse, the lovers whiled away 
The night that waned and waned and brought no day. 
They fell : for Heaven to them no hope imparts 
Who hear not for the beating of their hearts. 



[124] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To F s S. O 



[Mrs. Frances Sargent Osgood] 

THOU wouldst be loved? then let thy heart 

From its present pathway part not! 
Being everything which now thou art, 

Be nothing which thou art not. 
So with the world thy gentle ways, 

Thy grace, thy more than beauty, 
Shall be an endless theme of praise, 

And love a simple duty. 



[125] 



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Bridal Ballad 

THE ring is on my hand, 

And the wreath is on my brow; 

Satin and jewels grand 

Are all at my command, 
And I am happy now. 

And my lord he loves me well; 

But, when first he breathed his vow, 
I felt my bosom swell 
For the words rang as a knell, 
And the voice seemed his who fell 
In the battle down the dell, 

And who is happy now. 

[126] 



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Bridal Ballad CONTINUED 

But he spoke to re-assure me, 

And he kissed my pallid brow, 
While a reverie came o er me, 
And to the church-yard bore me, 
And I sighed to him before me, 
Thinking him dead D Elormie, 
"Oh, I am happy now!" 

And thus the words were spoken, 

And this the plighted vow, 
And, though my faith be broken, 
And, though my heart be broken, 
Here is a ring, as token 

That I am happy now! 

Would God I could awaken! 
For I dream I know not how! 

[127] 



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Bridal Ballad CONTINUED 

And my soul is sorely shaken 
Lest an evil step be taken, 
Lest the dead who is forsaken 
May not be happy now. 



[128] 



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To My Mother 

[His Mother-in-law, Mrs. Clemm] 

BECAUSE I feel that, in the Heavens above, 

The angels, whispering to one another, 
Can find, among their burning terms of love, 

None so devotional as that of "Mother," 
Therefore by that dear name I long have called you 

You who are more than mother unto me, 
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you 

In setting my Virginia s spirit free. 

My mother my own mother, who died early, 
Was but the mother of myself; but you 

[129] 



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To My Mother CONTINUED 

Are mother to the one 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. 



[130] 



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To Helen 

["Helen" was Mrs. Stannard, whose death also inspired Lenore.] 

HELEN, thy beauty is to me 

Like those Nicean barks of yore, 

That gently, o er a perfumed sea, 
The weary, wayworn wanderer bore 
To his own native shore. 



On desperate seas long wont to roam, 
Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, 

Thy Naiad airs have brought me home 
To the glory that was Greece, 
And the grandeur that was Rome. 

[131] 



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To Helen CONTINUED 

Lo ! in yon brilliant window-niche 
How statue-like I see thee stand, 

The agate lamp within thy hand! 
Ah, Psyche, from the regions which 
Are Holy Land! 



132] 



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The Lake To 

IN spring of youth it was my lot 

To haunt of the wide world a spot 

The which I could not love the less 

So lovely was the loneliness 

Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, 

And the tall pines that towered around. 



But when the Night had thrown her pall 
Upon that spot, as upon all, 
And the mystic wind went by 
Murmuring in melody 

[133] 



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The Lake To CONTINUED 

Then ah then I would awake 

To the terror of the lone lake. 

Yet that terror was not fright, 

But a tremulous delight 

A feeling not the jewelled mine 

Could teach or bribe me to define 

Nor Love although the Love were thine, 

Death was in that poisonous wave, 

And in its gulf a fitting grave 

For him who thence could solace bring 

To his lone imagining 

Whose solitary sole could make 

An Eden of that dim lake. 



[114] 



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The Valley of Unrest 

ONCE it smiled a silent dell 
Where the people did not dwell ; 

They had gone unto the wars, 
Trusting to the mild-eyed stars, 
Nightly, from their azure towers, 
To keep watch above the flowers, 
In the midst of which all day 
The red sunlight lazily lay. 
Now each visitor shall confess 
The sad valley s restlessness. 
Nothing there is motionless 
Nothing save the airs that brood 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Valley of Unrest CONTINUED 
Over the magic solitude. 
Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees 
That palpitate like the chill seas 
Around the misty Hebrides! 
Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven 
That rustle through the unquiet Heaven 
Uneasily, from morn till even, 
Over the violets there that lie 
In myriad types of the human eye 
Over the lilies there that wave 
And weep above a nameless grave! 
They wave : from out their fragrant tops 
Eternal dews come down in drops. 
They weep: from off their delicate stems 
Perennial tears descend in gems. 



[136] 



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The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour 

THE happiest day the happiest hour 

My sear d and blighted heart hath known, 

The highest hope of pride and power, 
I feel hath flown. 



Of power! said I? yes! such I ween; 

But they have vanish d long, alas ! 
The visions of my youth have been 

But let them pass. 



And, pride, what have I now with thee? 
Another brow may even inherit 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour CONTINUED 
The venom thou hast pour d on me 
Be still, my spirit! 

The happiest day the happiest hour 
Mine eyes shall see have ever seen, 

The brightest glance of pride and power, 
I feel have been: 

But were that hope of pride and power 

Now offer d, with the pain 
Even then I felt that brightest hour 

I would not live again: 

For on its wing was dark alloy, 

And, as it fluttered fell 
An essence powerful to destroy 

A soul that knew it well. 

[138] 



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Catholic Hymn 

AT morn at noon at twilight dim 
Maria ! thou hast heard my hymn ! 
In joy and woe in good and ill 
Mother of God, be with me still! 
When the hours flew brightly by, 
And not a cloud obscured the sky, 
My soul, lest it should truant be, 
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee ; 
Now, when storms of Fate o ercast 
Darkly my Present and my Past, 
Let my Future radiant shine 
With sweet hopes of thee and thine ! 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To 

[Mrs. Marie Louise Shew.] 

NOT long ago, the writer of these lines, 

In the mad pride of intellectuality, 

Maintained "the power of words" denied that ever 

A thought arose within the human brain 

Beyond the utterance of the human tongue: 

And now, as if in mockery of that boast, 

Two words two foreign soft dissyllables 

Italian tones, made only to be murmured 

By angels dreaming in the moonlit "dew 

That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill," 

Have stirred from out the abysses of his heart, 

[140] 



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To 



-CONTINUED 



Unthought-like thoughts that are the souls of thought, 

Richer, far wilder, far diviner visions 

Than even seraph harper, Israfel, 

(Who has "the sweetest voice of all God s creatures,") 

Could hope to utter. And I ! my spells are broken. 

The pen falls powerless from my shivering hand. 

With thy dear name as text, though bidden by thee, 

I cannot write I cannot speak or think 

Alas, I cannot feel; for tis not feeling, 

This standing motionless upon the golden 

Threshold of the wide-open gate of dreams. 

Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista, 

And thrilling as I see, upon the right, 

Upon the left, and all the way along, 

Amid empurpled vapours, far away 

To where the prospect terminates thee only. 



[Hi] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Evening Star 

TWAS noontide of summer, 

And mid-time of night; 
And stars in their orbits, 

Shone pale, thro the light 
Of the brighter, cold moon, 

Mid planets her slaves, 
Herself in the Heavens, 

Her beam on the waves. 
I gazed awhile 
On her cold smile; 
Too cold too cold for me- 

There pass d, as a shroud, 

A fleecy cloud, 

[142] 



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Evening Star CONTINUED 

And I turn d away to thee, 

Proud Evening Star, 

In thy glory afar, 
And dearer thy beam shall be ; 

For joy to my heart 

Is the proud part 
Thou bearest in Heaven at night, 

And more I admire 

Thy distant fire, 
Than that colder, lowly light. 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Stanzas 



How often we forget all time, when lone 
Admiring Nature s universal throne; 
Her woods her wilds her mountains the intense 
Reply of HERS to OUR intelligence ! 

[BYRON, The Island. ] 



IN youth have I known one with whom the Earth 
In secret communing held as he with it, 
In daylight, and in beauty from his birth: 
Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit 
From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth 
A passionate light such for his spirit was fit 

[H4] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Stanzas CONTINUED 

And yet that spirit knew not, in the hour 
Of its own fervour what had o er it power. 



Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought 
To a fever by the moonbeam that hangs o er, 
But I will half believe that wild light fraught 
With more of sovereignty than ancient lore 
Hath ever told or is it of a thought 
The unembodied essence, and no more 
That with a quickening spell doth o er us pass 
As dew of the night-time o er the summer grass? 



Doth o er us pass, when, as th expanding eye 
To the loved object so the tear to the lid 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

Will start, which lately slept in apathy? 
And yet it need not be (that object) hid 
From us in life but common which doth He 
Each hour before us but then only, bid 
With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken, 
To awake us Tis a symbol and a token 



Of what in other worlds shall be and given 

In beauty by our God, to those alone 

Who otherwise would fall from life and Heaven 

Drawn by their heart s passion, and that tone, 

That high tone of the spirit which hath striven 

Tho not with Faith with godliness whose throne 

With desperate energy t hath beaten down ; 

Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown. 

[146] 



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Spirits of the Dead 

THY soul shall find itself alone 

Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone; 

Not one, of all the crowd, to pry 

Into thine hour of secrecy. 



Be silent in that solitude, 

Which is not loneliness for then 

The spirits of the dead, who stood 
In life before thee, are again 

In death around thee, and their will 

Shall overshadow thee ; be still. 

[H7] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Spirits of the Dead CONTINUED 

The night, though clear, shall frown, 
And the stars shall not look down 
From their high thrones in the Heaven 
With light like hope to mortals given, 
But their red orbs, without beam, 
To thy weariness shall seem 
As a burning and a fever 
Which would cling to thee for ever. 



Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish, 

Now are visions ne er to vanish; 

From thy spirit shall they pass 

No more, like dew-drop from the grass. 

The breeze, the breath of God, is still, 

And the mist upon the hill 

Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken, 

[148] 



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Spirits of the Dead CONTINUED 

Is a symbol and a token. 
How it hangs upon the trees, 
A mystery of mysteries! 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Israfel 



And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who 
has the sweetest voice of all God s creatures. Koran. 



IN Heaven a spirit doth dwell 
"Whose heart-strings are a lute;" 

None sing so wildly well 

As the angel Israfel, 

And the giddy Stars (so legends tell) 

Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell 
Of his voice, all mute. 

Tottering above 

In her highest noon, 

[150] 



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CONTINUED 

The enamoured moon 
Blushes with love, 
While, to listen, the red levin 
(With the rapid Pleiads, even, 
Which were seven,) 
Pauses in Heaven. 

And they say (the starry choir 
And the other listening things) 

That Israfeli s fire 

Is owing to that lyre 

By which he sits and sings 

The trembling living wire 
Of those unusual strings. 

But the skies that angel trod, 
Where deep thoughts are a duty 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

Where Love s a grown up God 
Where the Houri glances are 

Imbued with all the beauty 
Which we worship in a star. 

Therefore thou art not wrong, 

Israfeli, who despisest 
An unimpassioned song; 
To thee the laurels belong, 

Best bard, because the wisest ! 
Merrily live, and long! 

The ecstasies above 

With thy burning measures suit 

Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love, 
With the fervour of thy lute 
Well may the stars be mute ! 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

Yes, Heaven is thine ; but this 
Is a world of sweets and sours; 
Our flowers are merely flowers, 

And the shadow of thy perfect bliss 
Is the sunshine of ours. 



If I could dwell 
Where Israfel 

Hath dwelt, and he where I, 
He might not sing so wildly well 

A mortal melody, 
While a bolder note than this might swell 

From my lyre within the sky. 



[i53] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Song 

I SAW thee on thy bridal day 

When a burning blush came o er thee, 
Though happiness around thee lay, 

The world all love before thee : 

And in thine eye a kindling light 

(Whatever it might be) 
Was all on Earth my aching sight 

Of Lovliness could see. 

That blush, perhaps, was maiden shame 

As such it well may pass 
Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame 

In the breast of him, alas! 



[i54] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Song CONTINUED 

Who saw thee on that bridal day, 

When that deep blush would come o er thee, 
Though happness around thee lay; 

The world all love before thee. 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



To 



THE bowers whereat, in dreams, I see 
The wantonest singing birds, 

Are lips and all thy melody 
Of lip-begotten words 

Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined, 

Then desolately fall, 
O God ! on my funereal mind 

Like starlight on a pall 

Thy heart thy heart ! I wake and sigh, 

And sleep to dream till day 
Of the truth that gold can never buy 

Of the baubles that it may. 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Fairy-Land 

DIM vales and shadowy floods 
And cloudy-looking woods, 
Whose forms we can t discover 
For the tears that drip all over 
Huge moons there wax and wane 
Again again again 
Every moment of the night 
Forever changing places 
And they put out the star-light 
With the breath from their pale faces. 
About twelve by the moon-dial, 
One more filmy than the rest 
(A kind which, upon trial, 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Fairy-Land CONTINUED 

They have found to be the best) 

Comes down still down and down, 

With its centre on the crown 

Of a mountain s eminence, 

While its wide circumference 

In easy drapery falls 

Over hamlets, over halls, 

Wherever they may be 

O er the strange woods o er the sea 

Over spirits on the wing 

Over every drowsy thing 

And buries them up quite 

In a labyrinth of light 

And then, how deep ! O, deep ! 

Is the passion of their sleep. 

In the morning they arise, 

And their moony covering 

[158] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Fairy-Land CONTINUED 

Is soaring in the skies, 

With the tempests as they toss, 

Like almost anything 

Or a yellow Albatross. 
They use that moon no more 
For the same end as before 
Videlicet a tent 
Which I think extravagant: 
Its atomies, however, 
Into a shower dissever, 
Of which those butterflies, 
Of Earth, who seek the skies, 
And so come down again 
(Never-contented things!) 
Have brought a specimen 
Upon their quivering wings. 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Coliseum 

TYPE of the antique Rome ! Rich reliquary 
Of lofty contemplation left to Time 
By buried centuries of pomp and power! 
At length at length after so many days 
Of weary pilgrimage and burning thirst, 
(Thirst for the springs of lore that in thee lie,) 
I kneel, an altered and an humble man, 
Amid thy shadows, and so drink within 
My very soul thy grandeur, gloom, and glory! 

Vastness! and Age! and Memories of Eld! 
Silence! and Desolation! and dim Night! 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Coliseum CONTINUED 

I feel ye now I feel ye in your strength 
O spells more sure than e er Judaean king 
Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane ! 
O charms more potent than the rapt Chaldee 
Ever drew down from out the quiet stars! 



Here, where a hero fell, a column falls ! 

Here, where the mimic eagle glared in gold 

A midnight vigil holds the swarthy bat! 

Here, where the dames of Rome their gilded hair 

Waved to the wind, now wave the reed and thistle ! 

Here, where on golden throne the monarch lolled, 

Glides, spectre-like, unto his marble home, 

Lit by the wan light of the horned moon, 

The swift and silent lizard of the stones ! 



[161] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Coliseum CONTINUED 

But stay ! these walls these ivy-clad arcades 
These mouldering plinths these sad and blackened 

shafts 

These vague entablatures this crumbling frieze 
These shattered cornices this wreck this ruin 
These stones alas ! these grey stones are they all 
All of the famed, and the colossal left 
By the corrosive Hours to Fate and me? 



"Not all" the Echoes answer me "not all! 

Prophetic sounds and loud, arise forever 

From us, and from all Ruin, unto the wise, 

As melody from Memnon to the Sun. 

We rule the hearts of mightiest men we rule 

With a despotic sway all giant minds. 

We are not impotent we pallid stones. 

[162] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



The Coliseum CONTINUED 

Not all the power is gone not all our fame 
Not all the magic of our high renown 
Not all the wonder that encircles us 
Not all the mysteries that in us lie 
Not all the memories that hang upon 
And cling around about us as a garment, 
Clothing us in a robe of more than glory." 



[163] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Dreamland 

By a route obscure and lonely, 
Haunted by ill angels only, 
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, 
On a black throne reigns upright, 
I have reached these lands but newly 
From an ultimate dim Thule 
From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, 
Out of SPACE out of TIME. 

Bottomless vales and boundless floods, 
And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods, 
With forms that no man can discover 
For the tears that drip all over ; 

[164] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Dream-land CONTINUED 

Mountains toppling evermore 
Into seas without a shore; 
Seas that restlessly aspire, 
Surging, unto skies of fire; 
Lakes that endlessly outspread 
Their lone waters lone and dead, 
Their still waters still and chilly 
With the snows of the lolling lily. 

By the lakes that thus outspread 
Their lone waters lone and dead, 
Their sad waters, sad and chilly 
With the snows of the lolling lily 
By the mountains near the river 
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever, 
By the grey woods, by the swamp 
Where the toad and the newt encamp, 
By the dismal tarns and pools 

[165] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Dreamland CONTINUED 

Where dwell the Ghouls, 
By each spot the most unholy 
In each nook most melancholy, 
There the traveller meets aghast 
Sheeted Memories of the Past 
Shrouded forms that start and sigh 
As they pass the wanderer by 
White-robed forms of friends long given, 
In agony, to the Earth and Heaven. 

For the heart whose woes are legion 
Tis a peaceful, soothing region 
For the spirit that walks in shadow 
Tis oh, tis an Eldorado ! 
But the traveller, travelling through it, 
May not dare not openly view it! 
Never its mysteries are exposed 
To the weak human eye unclosed; 

[166] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Dreamland CONTINUED 

So wills its King, who hath forbid 
The uplifting of the fringed lid; 
And thus the sad Soul that here passes 
Beholds it but through darkened glasses. 

By a route obscure and lonely, 
Haunted by ill angels only, 
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, 
On a black throne reigns upright, 
I have wandered home but newly 
From this ultimate dim Thule. 



[167] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



For Annie 

THANK Heaven ! the crisis 

The danger is past, 
And the lingering illness 

Is over at last 
And the fever called "Living" 

Is conquered at last. 

Sadly, I know 

I am shorn of my strength, 
And no muscle I move 

As I lie at full length 
But no matter ! I feel 

I am better at length. 



[168] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



For Annie CONTINUED 

And I rest so composedly, 
Now, in my bed, 

That any beholder 

Might fancy me dead 

Might start at beholding me, 
Thinking me dead. 






(2) 






The moaning and groaning, 
The sighing and sobbing, 

Are quieted now, 

t 
With that horrible throbbing 

At heart: ah, that horrible, 

Horrible throbbing! 

\ 

f 

The sickness the nausea 

The pitiless pain 
Have ceased, with the fever 



[169] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



For Annie CONTINUED 
/ 

That maddened my brain 

With the fever called "Living" 

That burned in my brain. 

And oh! of all torture 

That torture the worst 
Has abated the terrible 

Torture of thirst 
For the naphthaline river 

Of Passion accurst: 
I have drunk of a water 

That quenches all thirst: 

Of a water that flows, 
With a lullaby sound, 

From a spring but a very few 
Feet under ground 

170] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



For Annie CONTINUED 

From a cavern not very far 
Down under ground. 

And ah! let it never 

Be foolishly said 
That my room it is gloomy 

And narrow my bed; 
For man never slept 

In a different bed 
And, to sleep, you must slumber 

In just such a bed. 

My tantalized spirit 

Here blandly reposes. 
Forgetting, or never 

Regretting its roses 
Its old agitations 

Of myrtles and roses ; 

[171] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



For Annie CONTINUED 

For now, while so quietly 

Lying, it fancies 
A holier odour 

About it, of pansies 
A rosemary odour, 

Commingled with pansies 
With rue and the beautiful 

Puritan pansies. 

And so it lies happily, 

Bathing in many 
A dream of the truth 

And the beauty of Annie 
Drowned in a bath 

Of the tresses of Annie. 

She tenderly kissed me, 
She fondly caressed, 

[172] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



For Annie CONTINUED 

And then I fell gently 

To sleep on her breast 
Deeply to sleep 

From the heaven of her breast. 

When the light was extinguished 

She covered me warm, 
And she prayed to the angels 

To keep me from harm 
To the queen of the angels 

To shield me from harm. 

And I lie so composedly, 

Now, in my bed, 
(Knowing her love) 

That you fancy me dead 
And I rest so contentedly, 

[173] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



For Annie CONTINUED 

Now, in my bed, 
(With her love at my breast) 

That you fancy me dead 
That you shudder to look at me, 

Thinking me dead ; 

But my heart it is brighter 

Than all of the many 
Stars in the sky, 

For it sparkles with Annie 
It glows with the light 

Of the love of my Annie 
With the thought of the light 

Of the eyes of my Annie. 



[i74l 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Alone 

FROM childhood s hour I have not been 
As others were; I have not seen 
As others saw; I could not bring 
My passions from a common spring. 
From the same source I have not taken 
My sorrow; I could not awaken 
My heart to joy at the same tone; 
And all I loved 7 loved alone. 
Then in my childhood, in the dawn 
Of a most stormy life was drawn 
From every depth of good and ill 
The mystery which binds me still : 
From the torrent, or the fountain, 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



CONTINUED 

From the red cliff of the mountain, 
From the sun that round me rolled 
In its autumn tint of gold, 
From the lightning in the sky 
As it passed me flying by, 
From the thunder and the storm, 
And the cloud that took the form 
(When the rest of Heaven was blue) 
Of a demon in my view. 



[176] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane 

KIND solace in a dying hour! 

Such, father, is not (now) my theme 
I will not madly deem that power 

Of Earth may shrive me of the sin 
Unearthly pride hath revell d in 

I have no time to dote or dream : 
You call it hope that fire of fire! 
It is but agony of desire: 
If I can hope O God ! I can 

Its fount is holier more divine 
I would not call thee fool, old man, 

But such is not a gift of thine. 

[i77] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

Know thou the secret of a spirit 

Bow d from its wild pride into shame. 
O yearning heart! I did inherit 

Thy withering portion with the fame, 
The searing glory which hath shone 
Amid the jewels of my throne, 
Halo of Hell ! and with a pain 
Not Hell shall make me fear again 

craving heart, for the lost flowers 
And sunshine of my summer hours ! 
The undying voice of that dead time, 
With its interminable chime, 
Rings, in the spirit of a spell, 

Upon thy emptiness a knell. 

1 have not always been as now : 
The fever d diadem on my brow 

[178] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

I claim d and won usurpingly 
Hath not the same fierce heirdom given 
Rome to the Caesar this to me? 

The heritage of a kingly mind, 
And a proud spirit which hath striven 
Triumphantly with human kind. 

On mountain soil I first drew life : 
The mists of the Taglay have shed 
Nightly their dews upon my head, 

And, I believe, the winged strife 

And tumult of the headlong air 

Have nestled in my very hair. 

So late from Heaven that dew it fell 

( Mid dreams of an unholy night) 
Upon me with the touch of Hell, 

[i79] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

While the red flashing of the light 
From clouds that hung, like banners, o er, 
Appeared to my half-closing eye 
The pageantry of monarchy, 
And the deep trumpet-thunder s roar 
Came hurriedly upon me, telling 

Of human battle, where my voice, 
My own voice, silly child! was swelling 

(O! how my spirit would rejoice, 
And leap within me at the cry) 
The battle-cry of Victory! 

The rain came down upon my head 
Unshelter d and the heavy wind 
Rendered me mad and deaf and blind. 

It was but man, I thought, who shed 
Laurels upon me: and the rush 

[180] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

The torrent of the chilly air 

Gurgled within my ear the crush 
Of empires with the captive s prayer 
The hum of suitors and the tone 
Of flattery round a sovereign s throne. 



My passions, from that hapless hour, 

Usurp d a tyranny which men 
Have deem d since I have reach d to power, 
My innate nature be it so : 

But father, there liv d one who, then, 
Then in my boyhood when their fire 

Burn d with a still intenser glow, 
(For passion must, with youth, expire) 

E en then who knew this iron heart 

In woman s weakness had a part. 

[181] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlan e CONTINUED 

I have no words alas! to tell 
The loveliness of loving well ! 
Nor would I now attempt to trace 
The more than beauty of a face 
Whose lineaments, upon my mind, 

Are shadows on th unstable wind : 

Thus I remember having dwelt 

Some page of early lore upon, 
With loitering eye, till I have felt 
The letters with their meaning melt 

To fantasies with none. 

O, she was worthy of all love! 

Love as in infancy was mine 
Twas such as angel minds above 

Might envy; her young heart the shrine 
On which my every hope and thought 

[182] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN FOE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

Were incense then a goodly gift, 

For they were childish and upright 
Pure as her young example taught: 
Why did I leave it, and, adrift, 
Trust to the fire within, for light? 

We grew in age and love together, 
Roaming the forest, and the wild; 

My breast her shield in wintry weather 
And, when the friendly sunshine smil d 

And she would mark the opening skies, 

/ saw no Heaven but in her eyes. 

* 

Young Love s first lesson is the heart: 
For mid that sunshine, and those smiles, 

When, from our little cares apart, 
And laughing at her girlish wiles, 

[183] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

I d throw me on her throbbing breast, 

And pour my spirit out in tears 
There was no need to speak the rest 

No need to quiet any fears 
Of her who ask d no reason why, 
But turned on me her quiet eye! 



Yet more than worthy of the love 
My spirit struggled with, and strove, 
When, on the mountain peak, alone, 
Ambition lent it a new tone 
I had no being but in thee: 

The world, and all it did contain 
In the earth the air the sea 

Its joy its little lot of pain 
That was new pleasure the ideal, 

184] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

Dim vanities of dreams by night 
And dimmer nothings which were real 

(Shadows and a more shadowy light!) 
Parted upon their misty wings, 

And, so, confusedly, became 

Thine image, and a name a name! 
Two separate yet most intimate things. 

I was ambitious have you known 

The passion, father? You have not: 
A cottager, I mark d a throne 
Of half the world as all my own, 

And murmur d at such lowly lot 
But, just like any other dream, 

Upon the vapour of the dew 
My own had past, did not the beam 

Of beauty which did while it thro 

[185] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

The minute the hour the day oppress 
My mind with double loveliness. 

We walk d together on the crown 

Of a high mountain which look d down 

Afar from its proud natural towers 

Of rock and forest, on the hills 
The dwindled hills ! begirt with bowers, 

And shouting with a thousand rills. 

I spoke to her of power and pride, 

But mystically in such guise 
That she might deem it nought beside 

The moment s converse; in her eyes 
I read, perhaps too carelessly 

A mingled feeling with my own 
The flush on her bright cheek, to me 

Seem d to become a queenly throne 

[186] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlan e CONTINUED 

Too well that I should let it be 
Light in the wilderness alone. 

I wrapp d myself in grandeur then, 
And donn d a visionary crown 
Yet it was not that Fantasy 
Had thrown her mantle over me 
But that, among the rabble men, 

Lion ambition is chained down 
And crouches to a keeper s hand 
Not so in deserts where the grand 
The wild the terrible conspire 
With their own breath to fan his fire. 

Look round thee now on Samarcand ! 

Is not she queen of Earth? her pride 
Above all cities? in her hand 

Their destinies? in all beside 

[187] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlan e CONTINUED 

Of glory which the world hath known 
Stands she not nobly and alone? 
Falling her veriest stepping-stone 
Shall form the pedestal of a throne 
And who her sovereign? Timour he 

Whom the astonished people saw 
Striding o er empires haughtily 

A diadem d outlaw! 

O, human love! thou spirit given, 
On Earth, of all we hope in Heaven! 
Which fall st into the soul like rain 
Upon the Siroc-wither d plain, 
And, failing in thy power to bless, 
But leav st the heart a wilderness! 
Idea! which bindest life around 
With music of so strange a sound, 

[188] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

And beauty of so wild a birth 
Farewell ! for I have won the Earth. 

When Hope, the eagle that tower d, could see 

No cliff beyond him in the sky, 
His pinions were bent droopingly 

And homeward turn d his soften d eye. 
Twas sunset: when the sun will part 
There comes a sullenness of heart 
To him who still would look upon 
The glory of the summer sun. 
That soul will hate the ev ning mist, 
So often lovely, and will list 
To the sound of the coming darkness (known 
To those whose spirits hearken) as one 
Who, in a dream of night, would fly 
But cannot, from a danger nigh. 

[189] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlan e CONTINUED 

What tho the moon the white moon 
Shed all the splendour of her noon, 
Her smile is chilly, and her beam, 
In that time of dreariness, will seem 
(So like you gather in your breath) 
A portrait taken after death. 
And boyhood is a summer sun 
Whose waning is the dreariest one 
For all we live to know is known, 
For all we seek to keep hath flown 
Let life, then, as the day-flower, fall 
With the noon-day beauty which is all. 
I reached my home my home no more 

For all had flown who made it so. 
I pass d from out its mossy door, 

And, tho my tread was soft and low, 
A voice came from the threshold stone 
Of one whom I had earlier known 

[190] 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

O, I defy thee, Hell, to show 
On beds of fire that burn below, 
A humbler heart a deeper woe. 

Father, I firmly do believe 

I know for Death, who comes for me 
From regions of the blest afar, 

Where there is nothing to deceive, 

Hath left his iron gate ajar, 
And rays of truth you cannot see 
Are flashing thro Eternity 

I do believe that Eblis hath 

A snare in every human path 

Else how, when in the holy grove 

I wandered of the idol, Love, 

Who daily scents his snowy wings 

With incense of burnt offerings 

From the most unpolluted things, 

[190 



THE POETICAL WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE 



Tamerlane CONTINUED 

Whose pleasant bowers are yet so riven 
Above with trellis d rays from Heaven 
No mote may shun no tiniest fly 
The lightening of his eagle eye 
How was it that Ambition crept, 

Unseen, amid the revels there, 
Till growing bold, he laughed and leapt 

In the tangles of Love s very hair? 



[192] 



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