CORNELL . 
 UNIVERSITY 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT 
 FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE 
 
Cornell University Library 
 PS 2605.A1 1919 
 
 3 1924 022 002 996 
 
 All books are subject to recall after two weeks. 
 Olin/Kroch Library 
 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 
 
 mmmtg^ 
 
 •*=•■ 
 
 
 1 .Ht^^^rifljl^^^l 
 
 w^^ 
 
 ■a *• 'if 
 
 ') 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 GAYLORD 
 
 
 
 PRINTED IN U.S.A. 
 
a Cornell University 
 f Library 
 
 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022002996 
 
THE POEMS OF 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE 
 
THE COMPLETE POEMS 
 
 OF 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN FOE 
 
 COLLECTED, EDITED, AND ARRANGED 
 
 WITH MEMOIR, TEXTUAL NOTES 
 
 AND BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 BY 
 
 J. H. WHITTY 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 
 
 H 
 
"ps 
 
 A/ 
 /f/f 
 
 COPYRIGHT, igll AND «9I7. BY J. H. WKTTOT 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published May iqii 
 
 THIRD EDITION, REVISED, I919 
 
 
TO 
 GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY 
 
PREFACE 
 
 PoE showed the utmost solicitude for the final text of 
 his poems. He constantly revised and reprinted them. 
 Professor G. E. Woodberry in his revised Life of Poe 
 says: "There is no such example in literature of poetic 
 elaboration as is contained in the successive issues of 
 these poems." His revisions were minute — sometimes a 
 mere word, and again only a punctuation mark or two. 
 But even the mere matter of punctuation in the text, to 
 an artistic poet like Poe, was of more than passing mo- 
 ment. Poe himself more fully explains this in Graham's 
 Magazine for February, 1848, where he wrote: "That 
 punctuation is important all agree; but how few com- 
 prehend the extent of its importance! The writer who 
 neglects punctuation, or mis-punctuates, is liable to be 
 misunderstood. It does not seem to be known that, even 
 when the sense is perfectly clear, a sentence may be de- 
 prived of half its force — its spirit — its point — by im- 
 proper punctuation." 
 
 Under these circumstances there is no difficulty in 
 deciding upon Poe's last revision as the authoritative- 
 and final text of his poems. Indeed in the preface to the 
 Stedman- Woodberry edition of Poe's poems it is said, 
 "The claim of his latest revision to be accepted as 
 the authorized text seems to the Editors irresistible," 
 The text of the poems adopted by them was that of 
 the so-called J. Lorimer Graham copy of the 1845 
 edition of Poe's poems, revised by marginal corrections 
 ia Poe's band which were long regarded as his final re- 
 
VIU PREFACE 
 
 visions. They were not, however, his last corrections. 
 Poe not only made later revisions of his poems, but re- 
 printed them, and also while on his last visit to Rich- 
 mond prepared his writings for a new edition. John M. 
 Daniel stated in the Richmond Eocaminer of October 12, 
 1849, that the last time he saw Poe he was just start- 
 ing for the North to have them pubUshed. 
 
 As was Poe's habit when associated with various 
 journals ^ he sent into the composing room of the Rich- 
 mond Examiner a, number of his revised poems and 
 tales for pubUcation in that newspaper. The space be- 
 ing crowded at that time, his copy was used by the print- 
 ers as " stop matter," to keep them employed, and was 
 typeset for later publication. Fortunately the revised 
 proofs of these poems were retained by one of the print- 
 ers, and they eventually fell into the hands of his old- 
 time associate, F. W. Thomas, who was afterwards 
 connected with the Richmond Enquirer at Richmond, 
 Virginia. These poems were: "The Bridal Ballad," 
 "The Sleeper," "Lenore," "Israfel," "Dream-Land," 
 "The Conqueror Worm," "The Haunted Palace," 
 " The Bells," " For Annie," " Sonnet to My Mother," 
 
 ' Authority of Judge Robert W. Hughes and other em- 
 ployees of the Examiner. The Richmond Examiner During the 
 War, Or the Writings of John M. Daniel, With a Memoir of 
 his Life by his Brother, Frederick S. Daniel (New York. Printed 
 for the Author. 1868), p. 220, states: " Edgar A. Poe was induced 
 to revise his principal poems for special publication in the 
 Eocaminer, and at the time of his death was under engagement 
 to furnish literary articles to its editor, who regarded him as 
 the poet of America." 
 
 While John M. Daniel was Minister to Italy, his brother F. S. 
 Daniel was his secretary, and was familiar with his life and his 
 association with Edgar A. Poe. 
 
PREFACE IX 
 
 " Annabel Lee," " Ulalume," and " To (A Dream 
 
 Within A Dream)." 
 
 One of the poems, "Dream-Land," appeared in the 
 Examiner shortly after Poe's death. His well-known 
 tale, "MS; Found in a Bottle" as from "The late Edgar 
 A. Poe's tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque, " printed 
 from the Examiner type and in that office, is now in my 
 possession. The reason more of the poems did not ap- 
 pear is explained in the Examiner of October 19, 1849, 
 which stated: " We do not quote them (' The Bells ') here 
 because 'they are too long. We have already published, 
 with his own corrections, ' The Raven,' which is a beau- 
 tiful specimen of the more solemn and elevated of his 
 verse. We wish to give a sample of his still more deli- 
 cate style — the epicureanism of language which was 
 an art of his own. 'Ulalume' and 'Annabel Lee,' the 
 last thing he ever wrote, are samples of this, but they 
 have both been too much in the newspapers of late. 
 We therefore choose and will publish in our next one 
 from his collected poems which we do not think has 
 been properly appreciated. It is a fanciful picture of 
 dreams — and the broken fantastic images which cross 
 the mind's eye — when the senses and judgment are 
 enveloped in sleep." 
 
 This poem was "Dream-Land," and appeared as re- 
 vised by Poe in the Examiner of October 29, 1849. The 
 editor promised to give further reviews of Poe's writ- 
 ings when he had more space for them. 
 
 An important contribution of Poe's to the Examiner 
 was his final revision of "The Raven." It was given as 
 the only correct copy published, and now appears here 
 for the first time since its appearance in that newspaper. 
 The poems from proof sheets of the Examiner were 
 
X PREFACE 
 
 compiled by F. W. Thomas with the intention of pub- 
 lishing a volume of Poe's poems. He wrote his Recol- 
 lections of Edgar A. Poe for this, but his death ended 
 the project. Judge Hughes afterwards placed the 
 manuscript in my hands for publication in the Rich- 
 mond, Virginia, Sunday Times, with which newspaper 
 I was associated at the time, but it was found unavail- 
 able. A copy, however, was retained, and all the impor- 
 tant facts and changes are incorporated in this volume. 
 The final text of "Lenore" left by Poe, which now 
 appears here, is of inestimable value, and forever sets 
 at rest the discussion as to Poe's intention of what 
 should constitute his final revision of that poem. His 
 corrections of this poem in the J. Lorimer Graham 
 copy of his 1845 poems were misunderstood by his later 
 editors and incorrectly printed. The final revision of 
 the other poems, in particular " Ulalume," " The Bells," 
 and "Annabel Lee, " now determines the state in which 
 Poe wished them all to rest. The text of the poems 
 from the Baltimore Saturday Morning Visiter and the 
 Flag of Our Union appears for the first time since 
 Poe's death. It is now established that "A Dream 
 Within A Dream" and "Eldorado" first appeared in 
 the latter newspaper. The supposed lost first part of 
 the manuscript of Poe's "The Haunted Palace" has 
 been found, as well as new and unpublished manuscripts 
 of "The Sleeper," "To M. L. S.," and others. Besides 
 the eight poems now first collected, will be found two 
 poems among the "Additional Poems," never before 
 printed with Poe's poems. The revisions made by Poe 
 in the J. Lorimer Graham edition of the 1845 poems 
 have never been fully published, but they are now re- 
 corded here in the notes as Poe left them. The changes 
 
PREFACE. xi 
 
 made by Poe in the presentation copy of his 1829 poems 
 to his cousin Elizabeth Herring have been carefully 
 examined, and also appear here for the first time. 
 
 In the textual notes I have aimed to present an ex- 
 haustive "variorum" edition, while the Bibliography is, 
 I believe, the latest and most complete yet published. 
 
 With this new and authoritative text of Poe's poems, 
 there is presented in the Memoir a new, and I hope, 
 faithful life of the poet. It is the fruit of researches 
 extending over a period of thirty years which began in 
 Baltimore, Maryland, when I was associated with the 
 late Edward Spencer, who edited the Poe-Snodgrass let- 
 ters. The finding of the F. W. Thomas Recollections of 
 E. A. Poe was a most fortunate discovery. With the 
 other important facts connected with Poe's history 
 which have been obtained, they have made it possible 
 to present a comprehensive story of the poet's career 
 with much new light upon certain disputed points. 
 
 J. H. W. 
 
 Richmond, Va., March i, igii. 
 
 PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION 
 
 Since the first edition of this volume, further new 
 Poe discoveries have been made. The most important 
 are five additional poems. There have also been found 
 hitherto unknown manuscript versions of three of Poe's 
 poems; also an introduction to the poem "For Annie." 
 
 The new verse has been brought into Poe's newly 
 collected poems, and other later matters incorporated 
 under the different headings, with a view of continuing 
 the volume, as the one final, complete, comprehensive, 
 and definite edition of Poe's poems. 
 
 iliCHMOND, Va., March i, 1917. J. H. W. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 MEMOIR xix 
 
 THE RAVEN AND, OTHER POEMS 
 
 ^;The Raven 7 
 
 The Valley of Unrest 14 
 
 Bbidal Ballad iS 
 
 ^ The Sleeper 17 
 
 The Coliseum 19 
 
 Lenore 21 
 
 Hymn 23 
 
 y'lSRAFEL 24 
 
 ::^Dream-Land 26 
 
 Sonnet — To Zante 28 
 
 ' A"he City in the Sea 29 
 
 To One in Paradise 31 
 
 Edlalie — A Song 32 
 
 To F s S. O D 33 
 
 To F 34 
 
 Sonnet — Silence 35 
 
 The Conqueror Worm 36 
 
 ^ The Haunted Palace 38 
 
 Scenes from "Politian" An Unpublished Drama . 40 
 
 LATER POEMS 
 
 The Bells 63 
 
 To M. L. S , 67 
 
XIV CONTENTS 
 
 ■>Xo 68 
 
 Sonnet (An Enigma) ^9 
 
 To (To Helen) 7° 
 
 A Valentine 73 
 
 For Annie 74 
 
 Sonnet — To my Mother 78 
 
 Eldorado . i 79 
 
 Annabel Lee So 
 
 =• Ulalume — A Ballad 82 
 
 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 /Tamerlane 89 
 
 /Sonnet — To Science 98 
 
 Al Aaraaj 99 
 
 /Romance 116 
 
 / Song 117 
 
 /Dreams 118 
 
 Spirits of the Dead 120 
 
 Evening Star 122 
 
 / To (A Dream within a Dream) .... 123 
 
 "In Youth have I known one with whom the Earth" 124 
 
 A Dream- 126 
 
 "The Happiest Day, the Happiest Hour" . . .127 
 
 sj The Lake 128 
 
 To 129 
 
 To the River 130 
 
 To 131 
 
 Fairy-Land 132 
 
 J To Helen 134 
 
 From an Album (Alone) 133 
 
CONTENTS XV 
 
 POEMS NOW FIRST COLLECTED 
 
 Spiritual Song 139 
 
 Elizabeth , 140 
 
 From an Album 141 
 
 To Sarah 142 
 
 The Great Man 143 
 
 Gratitude 144 
 
 An Enigma 146 
 
 Impromptu To Kate Carol 147 
 
 Stanzas 148 
 
 The Divine Right op Kings 150 
 
 The Vital Stream 151 
 
 Couplet (Deep in Earth Mv Love is Lying) . . 152 
 Lines to Joe Locke 153 
 
 ADDITIONAL POEMS WITH POETRY ATTRIBUTED 
 TO POE 
 
 Song op Triumph 157 
 
 Latin Hymn 158 
 
 The Skeleton-Hand 159 
 
 —-jThe Magician 162 
 
 Queen of May Ode 164 
 
 Fanny 165 
 
 To (Sleep on, Sleep on, Another Hour) . . .166 
 
 Oh, TemporaI Oh, Mores 167 
 
 APPENDIX 173 
 
 NOTES AND VARIORUM TEXT OF THE POEMS 213 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 331 
 
 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 343 
 
 INDEX OF TITLES 34S 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 EDGAR ALLAN POE. Photogravure .... Frontispiece 
 The earliest authentic portrait, from a miniature in oil in 
 possession of his sister Rosalie Poe. Taken at the old 
 "Lee Gallery" of Davies, Richmond, Va. 
 
 SOUTHERN LITERARY MESSENGER BUILDING, 
 RICHMOND, VA. 40 
 
 The entrance was on the side, with wooden stairway. 
 Poe's room looked out from the window marked +. The 
 building adjoining, marked + + , was occupied by Ellis 
 and Allan, where Poe was employed after leaving col- 
 lege. 
 
 POE'S DESK 80 
 
 Used by him at office of the Southern Literary Messenger, 
 Richmond, Va. 
 
 ROSALIE POE 98 
 
 Sister to E. A. Poe. From a unique photograph in pos- 
 session of the MacKenzie family. 
 
 SPIRITUAL SONG 138 
 
 Fragment of a poem, from Poe's Southern Literary 
 Messenger desk. 
 
 FRANCES KEELING ALLAN 178 
 
 Poe's foster-mother. A rare portrait from a painting in 
 oil. 
 
 THE FOWLDS HOUSE, KILMARNOCK, SCOTLAND, 
 WHERE POE STAYED 204 
 
XVlll ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 WHERE POE WENT TO SCHOOL, AT IRVINE, 
 SCOTLAND 204 
 
 STREET IN IRVINE, SHOWING BRIDGEGATE 
 HOUSE, WHERE POE STAYED, AT EXTREME 
 EIGHT , . S3« 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 Edgar Allan Poe was born at Boston, Massachusetts, 
 January 19, 1809. This was the date entered for him 
 in the matriculation book at the University of Vir- 
 ginia in 1826. Other evidence exists to establish the 
 date as true, although Poe himself has given the year 
 of his birth as both 181 1 and 1813. His age as recorded 
 at the United States War Department and at West 
 Point Military Academy is also at Variance with the 
 accepted date of his birth. 
 
 The question of correct age did not seem to give 
 Poe much concern. In Burton's Gentleman's Magazine 
 for April, 1840, he wrote: "The infirmity of falsifying 
 our age is at least as old as the time of Cicero, who, 
 hearing one of his contemporaries attempting to make 
 out that he was ten years younger than he really was, 
 very drily remarked, 'Then, at the time you and I were 
 at school together, you were not bom.'" 
 
 Poe also called himself both a "Bostonian" and a 
 "Virginian." His mother, Elizabeth Arnold, arrived 
 at Boston early in 1796, accompanied by her mother, 
 an actress from the Theatre Royal, Covent Garden. 
 Mrs. Arnold soon afterwards married a Mr. Tubbs, 
 but their history is unknown. The daughter followed 
 a theatrical career, and Carr's Musical Repository for 
 1800 published, among the popular songs of the day ■^— 
 "Tink a Tink," and "Chica cho," as sung by Miss 
 Arnold in " Blue Beard." She married C. D. Hopkins, an 
 actor, about May, 1802. He died October 26, 1805, and 
 
XX MEMOIR 
 
 shortly afterwards she married another member cf her 
 theatrical company named David Poe. He came from 
 Baltimore, Maryland, where his family connections 
 stood well. The first child, William Henry Leonard Poe, , 
 was probably bom in 1807. He was afterwards taken 
 in charge by his father's family at Baltimore. The 
 Boston tax office shows that David Poe, actor, was 
 assessed in May, 1808, with three hundred dollars, 
 personal property, which represented at least double 
 that amount. The Poe family left Boston in the fall 
 of 1809, and joined the New York Company, playing 
 with them until the end of the following season in July. 
 In New York all definite traces of David Poe seem lost. 
 Mrs. Poe joined her old company and appeared with 
 them without her husband, at Richmond, Virginia, Au- 
 gust 18, 1810. The notice in the Richmond Enquirer of 
 that date annoxmcing the play, "Castle Spectre,"has, — 
 "Mrs. Poe as Angela (From the Theatre, New York)." 
 She also took the part of "Maria" in the afterpiece 
 called, "Of Age To-morrow." All the names of the 
 company were printed, but that of David Poe did not 
 appear. A benefit was given Mrs. Poe September 21, 
 when she sang and danced. The company left Rich- 
 mond November 14, 1810. The fact that the company 
 with Mrs. Poe were in Norfolk, Virginia, in December, 
 and that she did not appear upon the stage, would indi- 
 cate that her third child, Rosalie, was born there about 
 that date. This event probably occurred at the Forrest 
 Mansion, in that city, and has led to the supposition 
 by some, that it was Edgar's birth, instead of his sister's, 
 E. A. Poe stated that his father died within a few 
 weeks of his mother at Richmond, Virginia, which can- 
 not be verified. Strong evidence to the contrary tends 
 
MEMOIR XXI 
 
 to show that David Poe was dead, or had deserted 
 his family, prior to Mrs. Poe's last visit to Richmond. 
 F. W. Thomas in his manuscript Recollections of E. A. 
 Poe states:* "I was intimate with Poe's brother in 
 Baltimore during the year 1828. He was a slim, feeble 
 young man, with dark inexpressive eyes, and his fore- 
 head had nothing like the expansion of his brother's. 
 His manners were fastidious. We visited lady ac- 
 quaintances together, and he wrote Byron poetry in 
 albums, which had little originality. He recited in 
 private and was proud of his oratorical powers. He 
 often deplored the early death of his mother, but pre- 
 tended not to know what had become of his father. I 
 was told by a lawyer intimate with the family that his 
 father had deserted his mother in New York. Both 
 his parents had visited Baltimore when he was a child, 
 and they sent money from Boston to pay for his sup- 
 port." 
 
 Mrs. Poe went to Charleston, South Carolina, after 
 leaving Norfolk, and the Courier of that city printed the 
 following, April 28, 1811: "For the benefit of Mrs. Poe 
 on Monday evening April 29th, will be presented, ' The 
 Wonder,' or 'A Woman Keeps a Secret'; after the play 
 a comic pantomimical ballet called ' Hurry Scurry, or the 
 Devil among the Mechanics,' to which will be added, 
 the much admired entertainment called 'The Highland 
 Reel.' " Mrs. Poe and her company returned to Nor- 
 folk, Virginia, the following July. In a notice of Mrs. 
 Poe's benefit, July 26, 1811, the Norfolk Heraldprinted 
 a communication stating: "Misfortunes have pressed 
 heavily upon Mrs. Poe, who has been left alone, the 
 
 ' All statements from F. W. Thomas are from the same source. 
 
XXU MEMOIR 
 
 support of herself and several young children." This, 
 printed under Mrs. Poe's own eye, while she was in 
 Norfolk, strongly indicates that her husband had in 
 some manner left the family. No record of his death 
 can be found at Norfolk or Richmond.' 
 
 From Norfolk Mrs. Poe went to Richmond in August, 
 1811, and there she made her last appearance on the 
 stage October 11. It is a coincidence that Poe also made 
 his last public appearance in Richmond. A benefit for 
 Mrs. Poe was repeated in Richmond, and an appeal for 
 charity for her published in a daily paper. She died 
 December 8, as recorded in the Richmond Enquirer, 
 December 10; and a notice that her funeral would take 
 place on Tuesday, December 10, appeared in the Rich- 
 mond Virginia Patriot of that date. No record of her 
 burial place has been found in Richmond. I have made 
 careful search, and only find an entry of a burial by the 
 city corresponding with the date of her death, in old 
 St. John's Churchyard, but no name is given. 
 
 Edgar Poe was taken in charge by Mrs. John Allan, 
 and his sister by Mrs. William MacKenzie, both Rich- 
 mond families. Mrs. Allan's husband reluctantly ac- 
 quiesced in the quasi-adoption of Edgar.^ Although 
 John Allan's financial affairs were not prosperous, the 
 family lived in modest, but comfortable circumstances. 
 It is said that Edgar was baptized December 11, 181 1, 
 
 ' The statements by Poe himself, and his biographers, that 
 David Poe died in Richmond, also the recent claim as to Nor- 
 folk, Virginia, have no foundation of fact. 
 
 ^ This, with other direct early information concerning Poe and 
 the Allan family, is derived from Judge R. W. Hughes, Dabney 
 Dandridge, a colored servant of the Allans, and other old Rich- 
 mond residents. (The Allans also had another old servant named 
 "Jim.") 
 
MEMOIR XXIU 
 
 but I am unable to find the church record. The family, 
 with Edgar and a sister of Mrs. Allan's, Miss Aiin 
 Moore Valentine, went to London, England, in the 
 sununer of 1815. There Edgar was sent to the Acad- 
 emy of Rev. Dr. Bransby, in Stoke Newington, near 
 London. This school is well portrayed by Poe in his 
 story called "WilHam Wilson." He also attended the 
 Misses Dubourg's boarding-school in London. F. W. 
 Thomas states that Poe told him that his school days 
 in London were sad, lonely and unhappy. In Burton's 
 Gentleman's Magazine for April, 1840, Poe wrote : " Since 
 the sad experience of my schoolboy days to this present 
 writing, I have seen little to sustain the notion held 
 by some folks, that schoolboys are the happiest of all 
 mortals." Poe visited Scotland, stopping with mem- 
 bers of the Allan family, at Irvine and Kilmarnock. 
 He attended school at Irvine. He wrote A. Ramsey, 
 of Stonehaven, Scotland, December 30, 1846, asking 
 about the Allans. 
 
 Allan's business affairs in London were unsuccessful, 
 and after five years' absence the family returned to 
 Richmond, Virginia, in the summer of 1820. They settled 
 down again to economical living, and Poe was sent to 
 the school of J. H. Clarke. Allan wished to give him 
 an education, but otherwise was cold and formal, 
 while his wife was the reverse. Edgar was of an efiiemi- 
 nate disposition, and although he indulged in boyish 
 sports, preferred' girls for playmates. In one of his 
 early magazine notes he speaks of using roller skates 
 in his boyhood, to show that they were not a more 
 modern invention. He also had more than the usual 
 boy's yearning for reading matter. Allan's library was 
 scant, and he had peculiar notions of what Edgar 
 
XXIV MEMOIR 
 
 should read. Mrs. Allan, a consistent member of the 
 Episcopal Church, was mainly seeking to instill in his 
 mind the fear of God. 
 
 Among the intimate church acquaintances of Mrs. 
 Allan were the families of Chief Justice John Marshall 
 and J. H. Strobia, both mentioned by Poe in later life. 
 Edgar always accompanied Mrs. Allan to church meet- 
 ings, and here was likely laid the foundation of his 
 knowledge of the Bible and Christian religion. John 
 Allan was not much of a church attendant, and rather 
 a liberal thinker. The germ out of which Poe's later 
 materialism evolved may have come from this source. 
 There seems an autobiographical hint of this in his tale 
 "The Domain of Arnheim," which he has said contains 
 "much of his soul." Here he wrote: "Some peculiar- 
 ities, either in his early education, or in the nature of 
 his intellect, had tinged with what is termed material- 
 ism all his ethical speculations; and it was this bias, 
 perhaps, which led him to believe that the most advan- 
 tageous at least, if not the sole legitimate field for the 
 poetic exercise, lies in the creation of novel moods of 
 purely physical loveliness." Mrs. Allan also had a god- 
 child named Catherine Elizabeth Poitiaux, who was 
 Poe's early playmate and child-love. At church Poe 
 met the early companion of his boyhood, Ebenezer 
 Burling, the son of a widowed mother, who lived 
 in a house on Bank Street, in which Poe was after- 
 wards married and resided with his wife and Mrs. 
 Clemm. 
 
 There Poe also caught the first glimpse of his sweet- 
 heart, Sarah Elmira Royster, who was to inspire so 
 much of his youthful verse. In early boyhood Burling 
 and Poe were often together. When matters went 
 
MEMOIR XXV 
 
 wrong at Allan's,^ Edgar hastened to Burling's home, 
 and spent the night there, in opposition to the Allans' 
 wishes. It was Burling who taught Poe to swim, and 
 also engaged with him in other manly sports. Dr. 
 Rawlings, who lived near Burling and attended him, 
 said that he was rough in his manner and of a different 
 disposition to Poe. He was fond of light Uterature, and 
 most likely Poe derived some of his early ideas of adven- 
 ture from him, and there obtained his reading matter 
 on such subjects. 
 
 Poe's own statement of his first reading of "Robin- 
 son Crusoe," in the Southern Literary Messenger for 
 January, 1836, is interesting. He wrote: "How fondly 
 do we recur in memory to those enchanted days of our 
 boyhood when we first learned to grow serious over 
 Robinson Crusoe! — when we first found the spirit of 
 wild adventure enkindling within us; as by the dim 
 firelight, we labored out, line by line, the marvellous 
 import of those pages, and hung breathless and trem- 
 bling with eagerness over their absorbing — over their 
 enchanting interest! Alas! the days of desolate islands 
 are no more!" 
 
 These sad words, with the plaintive, "no more," 
 were written from a window with a view of his boyhood 
 haunts, while adjoining was the old warehouse of Ellis 
 & Allan, where he spent many hours of his youth. That 
 he frequented this place early is shown by a power of 
 attorney given by the firm November 17, 1823, which 
 has Edgar Allan Poe as a witness.'' It was in the spring 
 of the year 1825 that John Allan inherited money from 
 
 ' Mrs. Clemm said this was not infrequent. 
 2 This with his name in an early school book in my possession 
 are his earliest known autographs. 
 
3DCV1 MEMOIR 
 
 an uncle. And soon after this he surrounded his 
 home with luxuries — purchased costly draperies, and, 
 besides the foundation for a library, added works of 
 art, including a marble bust of Mary Magdalen by 
 Canova, and another of Dante. This sudden change 
 in the mode of living must have had its effect upon 
 Edgar's mind. Here might be found the germ for 
 some tastes displayed in after years, — his minute de- 
 scriptions of draperies and of furniture. About this 
 same period another change took place in the family 
 affairs tending to leave a greater impress upon the 
 discerning mind of the boy Edgar. The marital rela- 
 tions of the Allans became unhappy. The reasons 
 that caused the second Mrs. Allan to renounce her 
 husband's will, May 26, 1834, began to trouble the 
 first wife. John Allan stated in his will made April 17, 
 1832, and recorded at Richmond, Virginia, that he 
 had confessed his fault, before marriage to his second 
 wife.' 
 
 A letter of the second Mrs. Allan's, written to Colonel 
 T. H. Ellis, is on record, very damaging to Poe. The 
 Valentine Museum at Richmond, Virginia, has numer- 
 ous unpublished letters, written by Poe to John Allan, 
 with the latter's notations on them, which were read 
 to a small select audience in Richmond, some years 
 ago. The letters taken with the notations are said to 
 
 ' He also left several legacies to provide for the maintenance 
 of the results of this fault. The Richmond court records with 
 the original entry of this will were destroyed by fire. It was also 
 recorded in another court, but was not accessible to Poe's pre- 
 vious biographers. I have a copy of the will, as well as the full 
 proceedings of the lengthy legal contest made to break the will 
 of the second Mrs. Allan, which was finally decided by the 
 Supreme Court. 
 
MEMOIR XXVll 
 
 give an itnpfession that Poe was ungratefxil to his 
 patron. They also contain references to other people, 
 which has hindered their early publication. They are 
 said to date from 1826 to 1830, referring mainly to 
 his college career, and represent Poe in a sincere, but 
 sad mood. 
 
 All these circumstances, as well as the importance of 
 showing the influences surrounding Poe's early bring- 
 ing up, make it necessary for this memoir not to ignore 
 the existing documents in the matters, which are also 
 public records. With Mts. Allan suspicious and jealous 
 of her husband, the natural disposition of Poe was to 
 side with her in family matters, which made Allan 
 anxious to have him out of the way. The educational 
 solution was the best that offered itself and the easiest 
 to arrange with both Poe and Mrs. Allan. It was de- 
 cided to send Edgar to the University of Virginia, but 
 he seems to have been reluctant in going there. He 
 had been making desperate love to Miss Royster, and 
 his pleadings had not been in vain. The old colored 
 servitor, who assisted Poe in getting away, has left a 
 statement that Edgar and Mrs. Allan were sad at heart 
 the day he left for the University, and on the way Poe 
 intimated a desire to break away from Allan, and seek 
 his own living. He intrusted the servant with a letter 
 to be handed in person to Miss Royster, which was the 
 last she was to see for some time. For with the ardent 
 lover away her parents intercepted Poe's letters and 
 soon substituted another suitor, to whom she was mar- 
 ried. All his letters to Miss Royster were destroyed but 
 one, and this the newly wedded found when it was too 
 late. Without response to his letters, Poe felt that his 
 first and only love had proven untrue to her vows to 
 
XXVlll MEMOIR 
 
 him. His relations with Allan were uncongenial and 
 his money allowances rather meagre. In the company 
 of gay companions he became reckless, indulged in 
 liquor, played cards for money, and became involved 
 in debt. He stood well in his studies at the University, 
 but left at the end of the session, December 15, 1826, 
 under a financial cloud, with lawyers trying to force 
 Allan into paying his gambling debts.' 
 
 Upon Poe's return to Richmond, Mrs. Allan greeted 
 him with oldtime endearments, which her husband re- 
 sented. He made Poe feel in the way, and put him to 
 work in his firm's counting-house. Here Poe chewed 
 the cud of bitter discontent. He first wrote a letter to 
 The Mills Nursery of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, with 
 whom the Allan firm had dealings, asking for employ- 
 ment. That firm sent the letter to AUan, and the matter 
 ended in a war of warm words. Poe, with a determined 
 will, had made up his mind to leave Richmond. Besides 
 the discontent at home, he had learned of the deceit 
 shown in his love affair with Miss Royster, and is re- 
 ported to have upbraided her parents after his return. 
 There is also a current story that Mrs. Shelton, formerly 
 Miss Royster, created a scene in her household after find- 
 ing out that Poe's letters had been kept from her. In 
 a matter-of-fact story written by Poe early in 1835 he 
 mentioned that after leaving college he went down to 
 his guardian's coimtry place, and also dipped into the 
 
 study of the law. He also made a reference to "E 
 
 P , who swam from Mayo's Bridge to Warwick 
 
 wharf some years ago." This swimming feat has been 
 frequently mentioned. 
 In a letter to a Richmond editor in May, 1835, Poe 
 ^ The attorneys' letters are still preserved in Richmond. 
 
MEMOIR XXIX 
 
 wrote: "The writer seems to compare my swim with 
 that of Lord Byron, whereas there can be no comparison 
 between them. Any swimmer 'in the falls' in my days, 
 would have swum the Hellespont, and thought nothing 
 of the matter. I swam from Ludlam's wharf to Warwick 
 (six miles), in a hot June sim, against one of the strong- 
 est tides ever known in the river. It would have been 
 a feat comparatively easy to swim twenty miles in still 
 water. I would not think much of attempting to swim 
 the British Channel from Dover to Calais." 
 
 The Allans had a country place in Goochland County, 
 Virginia, called "The Lower Byrd Plantations," which 
 Poe may have visited at some time. But he did not 
 linger long about Virginia. The supposition is that he 
 concluded that London was his "Eldorado," and that 
 whatever literary dreams he had, were beginning to 
 shape themselves. Judge Hughes had the statement 
 from the owner of a vessel trading with Allan's firm 
 that Poe had made an arrangement to work his way 
 to England in his vessel. Allan is said to have been 
 fully aware of this. However, when the time came for 
 Poe to tell his designs to Mrs. Allan, she went into 
 hysterics and would not allow the subject to be men- 
 tioned again. Through her entreaty the vessel owner 
 was seen by Allan and the plans abandoned. But it 
 seems that Poe meant to carry out his adventure at all 
 hazards. He is said to have talked the matter over with 
 his companion, Burling, who became enthusiastic and 
 consented to join him in the trip abroad. Burling had 
 become addicted to drink, and a favorite resort of his 
 was an inn kept by Mrs. E. C. Richardson. They both 
 quietly arranged to work their way in a vessel bound 
 for England. The old colored servant, who knew the 
 
XXX MEMOIR 
 
 secret, told Judge Hughes that he wanted to tell Mrs. 
 Allan, but fear kept him from it. He carried a small 
 bundle of Poe's personal effects from his room to Mrs. 
 Richardson's. Poe and Burling afterwards went there 
 in a hack, spending the night, and leaving early the next 
 morning for the vessel, lying at the dock. During his 
 short stay in Richmond Poe paid some attention to a 
 young lady stopping with Mrs. Juliet J. Drew, The 
 colored servant remembered carrying notes to her there 
 but did not recall her name. After sobering up. Bur- 
 ling deserted at the first stopping point the vessel 
 reached and returned to Richmond. Mrs. Allan had 
 frequent fainting spells after Poe left, and when she 
 learned from BurUng that he had gone abroad, she was 
 for weeks inconsolable. She tried to have her hus- 
 band take steps to have him return, but he never 
 seemed to trouble himself again in the matter. Mrs. 
 Allan wrote Poe two letters, begging him to return and 
 absolving him from all blame in the Allan family mat- 
 ters. Poe's wife guarded these letters with jealous care 
 during her life. When she was about to die she asked 
 that they be read to her. Eliza, White, daughter of the 
 founder of the Southern Literary Messenger, remembered 
 the incident, and her impression was that the letters 
 had been sent to Poe abroad. She recalled the matter 
 more readily, because she had seen the letters some 
 years previously in Richmond, where Poe's wife had 
 shown them to her family. Mrs. Smith, formerly Miss 
 Herring, Poe's Baltimore cousin and early love, who 
 was about the Poe house at the time Virginia died, 
 told Miss White afterwards that she had the letters.^ 
 
 ' I have made repeated efforts to locate the papers of Mrs. 
 Smith, who died aboat 1887, but her Dearest relative could give 
 
MEMOIR XXXI 
 
 While it is generally admitted that Poe left Rich- 
 mond in a sailing vessel, it is disputed that he ever 
 reached England. An argument is that the time, from 
 March to May ^26, was insufficient for the events. 
 The "Florida" had a record of a trip in twenty-five 
 days, while other vessels made much quicker time. 
 If the ocean trips had consumed as much time as the 
 "Florida's" records^ which is unlikely, there would 
 still have been time for further events. The time to 
 me seems ample. Burling, who left Richmond in the 
 vessel with Poe, told Dr. George W. Rawlings that their 
 destination was England. Judge Hughes is the author- 
 ity that Burling also informed Mrs. Allan that Poe had 
 gone abroad. Miss Eliza White was of the opinion that 
 the two letters written to Poe by Mrs. Allan were sent 
 to him abroad. Miss Ann Valentine has stated that Poe 
 corresponded with Mrs. Allan while he was in Europe. 
 The second Mrs. Allan has stated in her letter to 
 Colonel T. H. Ellis that Poe's letters were scarce and 
 dated from St. Petersburg, Russia. They may have 
 had other European dates, and being probably famiUar 
 with Poe's own legend of his visit to Russia, she was in . 
 error. 
 
 F. W. Thomas states: "Henry Poe visited his brother 
 in Richmond twice, the last time in 1825. He said Edgar 
 had quarrelled with Mr. Allan after coming from col- 
 lege, about the small allowance of money he was re- 
 ceiving, and left him. He worked his own passage 
 abroad in a vessel, reaching the metropolis of England 
 
 me no information. Some poetry written by Poe to Miss Herring, 
 also a copy of his early poems presented to her, were sold some 
 years since. It is likely that the original possessor of this mate- 
 rial holds these letters . 
 
XXXll MEMOIR 
 
 after a rough voyage. There he met with disappoint- 
 ment in finding employment, and his funds being low 
 proceeded to Paris, still hoping to find work. What 
 money he had left was taken from him, with the excep- 
 tion of a sum suflScient to pay his passage back to 
 London. Thus left without money and without friends 
 he hurried back to England, where he took passage in 
 a vessel for America, bound for a New England port." 
 Wherever he sailed in these days, he afterwards dis- 
 played in his writings considerable nautical knowledge, 
 and like Camoens, the poet, he also held on to his 
 manuscript verses, through all his vicissitudes. He met 
 with C. F. S. Thomas in Boston, who published them 
 in his first volume of poems, — "Tamerlane, By A 
 Bostonian. Boston, 1827." The book could not have 
 brought him any money, and only found slight notice. 
 Poe determined to try the army, and enlisted May 26, 
 1827, at Boston under the name of Edgar A. Perry. 
 He was assigned to Charleston, South Carolina, and 
 one year later transferred to Fortress Monroe, Virginia, 
 where he was appointed Sergeant Major.' While at 
 Fortress Monroe, Poe was identified by a relative of 
 Mrs. Allan, who communicated the fact to her. She was 
 ill, and pleaded to see Edgar again. She interested her 
 husband in aiding Poe to secure a discharge. In doing 
 this, however, Allan made sure that Poe was to enter 
 West Point and that he would not trouble him again. 
 
 ' A peculiar fact connected with his army career was an appoint- 
 ment at Charleston, May i, 1828, as "artificer." The office called 
 for "military mechanics," of some kind, which Poe was never 
 known to possess. The records do not show what duties he per- 
 formed, or whether he actually displayed mechanical skill in 
 any way. 
 
MEMOIR xxxm 
 
 Mrs. Allan died February 28, 1829, which made a change 
 in Poe's future dreams. In one of the many sadly writ- 
 ten letters in the Valentine Museum, Richmond, he 
 refers to his foster mother in the most affectionate 
 terms, and intimates that matters would have taken 
 a different course if she had lived. 
 
 While awaiting entry to West Point, Poe still carried 
 his manuscript verses and had begun to revise them. 
 His mind seemed bent on a literary career. After his 
 discharge from the army he went to Baltimore in 1829, 
 and there published his second volume of poems, — 
 "Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane and Minor Poems." When 
 editing them he sent a notice with some of his verses 
 to the Yankee of Boston. He presented his cousin, 
 EUzabeth Herring of Baltimore, with a copy of these 
 poems, which he afterwards used to make the revision 
 of his 1845 edition. He entered West Point in July, 
 
 1830, and while there spent a part of his time in again 
 revising his poems. He sent his fourth known publica- 
 tion, " Sonnet — To Science," in October to the Phila- 
 delphia Casket. He tired of soldier life and obtained 
 his dismissal in March, 1 831, by giving offense against 
 discipline. A letter written by him to the Superin- 
 tendent is on file at the Academy, dated March 10, 
 
 1 83 1, asking for a certificate of his standing in his 
 class, and intimating an intention of joining the Polish 
 army. Shortly afterwards he published his third vol- 
 ume of poems, which was not a financial success. He 
 visited Baltimore, and May 6, 1831, wrote a letter to 
 W. Gwynn asking employment. 
 
 F. W. Thomas says: "I removed to the country in 
 1829 and lost sight of Poe's brother. In 1831 I emi- 
 grated to Cincinnati, and for some years afterwards 
 
XXXIV MEMOIR 
 
 travelled through the West, along the Ohio and Missis- 
 sippi. On one of these trips of pleasure from Pittsburg 
 to New Orleans in a first-rate steamer, I made the 
 acquaintance of an interesting character named James 
 Tuhey, belonging to the steamer's crew. He possessed 
 more than ordinary musical ability and was especially 
 proficient with the flute. I would sit with him for hours 
 in a quiet corner and Usten to his sailor- lore. He ob- 
 served my manuscript as I was writing to a Cincinnati 
 newspaper and wanted to know if I was writing poetry. 
 I told him no. He repUed that so much manuscript 
 reminded him of a Baltimore acquaintance named 
 Poe. I thought at once that he had reference to Henry 
 Poe, but soon found that it was Edgar A. Poe he knew. 
 I also learned that Tuhey lived at Fells Point in Balti- 
 more, when I left there, and had only recently come out 
 to the West. He was a native of Ireland. In Baltimore 
 he had an acquaintance with a family named Caimes. 
 They were some connection of Poe's. At their house 
 he often met Poe. 
 
 " Tuhey spoke of him as stopping alternately with 
 one relative, and then another, but later on spending all 
 his time with the widow, Mrs. Clemm. He wrote for the 
 newspapers, but earned small pay. While living with 
 the Caimes, Poe made the acquaintance of Miss De- 
 veraux, a dark-eyed beauty, whose parents came from 
 Ireland. The family lived near the Cairnes residence 
 and were intimate. They were often seen together and 
 Poe wanted her to marry him at once. She was young 
 and told her parents, who, with the Cairnes, interfered 
 and broke ofi the affair. Poe became despondent after 
 this and went with Tuhey in a sailing vessel to the coast 
 of Wexford, Ireland, and back. It was on this trip that 
 
MEMOIR XXXV 
 
 Tuhey had seen Poe's manuscript, which mine had re- 
 called to his memory. Before leaving Baltimore in 1834, 
 Tuhey said that he often met Poe at a house on Caro- 
 line Street near Wilkes, Fells Point. There Poe would 
 sit in silence for hours listening to sailor stories of the 
 sea, the only interruption being now and then a tune 
 from Tuhey's musical flute." 
 
 The Richmond court records show that John Allan 
 was putting his earthly affairs in order, and making 
 his will April 17, 1832. The will was prepared by an 
 able lawyer, but Allan was so fearful that the clauses 
 troubling his conscience might not be carried out, that 
 he rewrote and repeated them himself a second time in 
 the will. It is also said that about this time he occa- 
 sionally intimated a desire to see Poe, before he died. 
 The supposition is that he had made promises to his 
 first wife concerning Poe, which had not been fulfilled. 
 Poe was in communication with Miss Valentine, sister 
 of the first Mrs. Allan; also had messages from the old 
 Allan servants, and in other ways kept informed of what 
 was going on in the Allan household. 
 
 An old printer told me that he carried letters for Poe 
 from Baltimore to Richmond prior to 1835. Poe had 
 heard the rumor that Allan was ill and wanted to see 
 him. He stated to Judge Hughes that with the under- 
 standing that Allan wished to see him, and a view 
 of a possible reconciliation, he had gone to Richmond 
 about June, 1832. He had no feeling against Mrs. 
 Allan, and thought that all that was necessary was to 
 go to the old home, and, in any event, find a cordial 
 reception. Instead, he stated, Mrs. Allan refused him 
 admittance, and hindered a meeting between himself 
 and Mr. Allan. He returned to Baltimore without seeing 
 
XXXVl MEMOIR 
 
 Allan. The Richmond court records, in the lawsuit to 
 break the will of the second Mrs. Allan, say: " Mrs. Allan 
 was a woman of vigorous intellect and will, remark- 
 able for her self reliance — a woman with likes and dis- 
 likes — attachments and resentments — loves and hates 
 — one so self reliant and high spirited that no one dared 
 approach her with any testamentary suggestions." 
 John Allan died March 27, 1834. The terms of his will 
 were not agreeable to his wife, and she rejected them. 
 The second marriage of Allan took place October 5, 
 1830; Mrs. Allan died April 24, 1881. 
 
 Poe took up occasional newspaper work on his re- 
 turn to Baltimore. During these years he also wrote 
 for New York and Philadelphia papers. The supposi- 
 tion is, that in New York he wrote for a newspaper 
 with which Major Noah was associated. In Philadel- 
 phia he wrote for Poulson's American Daily Advertiser 
 and the Sunday Mercury. 
 
 In Baltimore there were also days of love-making 
 with his cousin Miss Herring. He read to her, and wrote 
 verses in her album; and his wife Virginia, then a little 
 girl, carried the love letters. The tales Poe sent to the 
 Baltimore Saturday Morning Visiter, and his drama, 
 "Politian," were probably prepared during these years. 
 One of them, "Morella," was given by Poe in Balti- 
 more to a neighbor, Mrs. Samuel F. Simmons. The 
 manuscript had been in the possession of her daugh- 
 ter, hving in Howard County, Maryland, for many 
 years. It was recently sold by a New York book-auc- 
 tion house. The manuscript is written in the same 
 style, and corresponds with the introduction to "The 
 Tales of the Folio Club," as reproduced in facsimile 
 in Professor G. E. Woodberry's revised Life of Poe. This 
 
MEMOIR xxxvii 
 
 tale, it is claimed, was written by Poe some time be- 
 tween 1832 and 1833 in Baltimore, while a frequent 
 visitor at the Simmons house. 
 
 On October 12, 1833, Poe was awarded fifty dollars 
 for his prize tale, " MS. Found in a Bottle," by the Bal- 
 timore Saturday Morning Visiter. His poem "The 
 Coliseum " was well considered, but as he had received 
 the largest prize, the next was given to J. H. Hewitt, 
 editor of the paper. It had been the supposition that 
 Poe sent previous contributions to the Visiter, which 
 proved correct, as his poem "Serenade" appeared 
 April 20th, after L. A. Wilmer was editor. Hewitt states 
 that he wrote an unfavorable criticism on Poe's 1829 
 volume in the Minerva, a Baltimore publication he 
 edited, for which Poe assailed him on the street. They 
 were not friendly while he edited the Visiter, but after- 
 wards met in Washington on good terms. Wilmer and 
 Poe took long walks together and were intimate in 
 Baltimore and afterwards in Philadelphia. Hewitt 
 also seems to h9,ve been unfriendly with Wilmer, who, 
 he says, "measured poetry as he would type, and 
 judged its quality as a ganger would the proof of whis- 
 key." 
 
 Hewitt gives an intelligent description of Poe's ap- 
 pearance in the early days. He said that he knew Poe 
 as "a thin, handsome, spare young man. He had a 
 broad forehead, a large magnificent eye, dark brown and 
 rather curly hair; well formed, about five feet seven in 
 height. He dressed neatly in his palmy days — wore 
 Byron collars and a black neckerchief, looking the poet 
 all over. The expression of his face was thoughtful, 
 melancholy, and rather stern. In disposition he was 
 somewhat overbearing and spiteful. He often vented 
 
XXXVlll MEMOIR 
 
 his spleen on poor Dr. Loffin, who styled himself the 
 'Milford Bard,' and who outstripped Poe in the quan- 
 tity of his poetry, if not the quality. I never saw him 
 under the influence of drink or a narcotic but once, 
 and cannot endorse such stories." 
 
 The circumstances indicate that Poe was about 
 the newspaper offices in Baltimore at this period and 
 acquainted with the literary characters of the city. 
 Among them was J. P. Kennedy, who introduced him 
 to Carey & Lea of Philadelphia. They were given the 
 first opportunity to publish Poe's tales, but decUned 
 them. The tale of "The Visionary," which was among 
 them, was afterwards published in Godey's Lady's 
 Book for January, 1834. He contributed tales to the 
 Southern Literary Messenger of Richmond, Virginia, early 
 in 1835. His letters to the proprietor of that periodical 
 show that he had sufficient influence with the Balti- 
 more newspapers to have notices of the Messenger pub- 
 lished which he wrote himself. In a notice of the Mes- 
 senger in the Broadway Journal for March 22, 1845, 
 Poe states: "At the beginning of the seventh month 
 (1835), one of the present editors of the Broadway 
 Journal made an arrangement to edit the Messenger, 
 and by systematic exertion on the part of both pub- 
 lisher and editor the circulation was increased by the 
 end of the subsequent year to nearly five thousand — 
 a success quite unparalleled in the history of our five- 
 dollar Magazines. After the secession of Mr. Poe, Mr. 
 White took the editorial conduct upon his own shoul- 
 ders and sustained it remarkably well." Poe made 
 another attempt to have his tales published by Harper 
 & Brothers in March, 1836. 
 
 On May 16, 1836, Poe was married at Richmond to 
 
MEMOIR XXXIX 
 
 his cousin Virginia Eliza Clemm, who was not quite 
 fourteen years old, by Rev. A. Converse, a Presbyterian 
 minister. A previous marriage license was obtained in 
 Baltimore September 22, 1835. His marriage bond is 
 recorded in Richmond. The contributions of Poe to 
 the Southern Literary Messenger show that he was an 
 industrious editor, although at the start occasionally 
 over-indulging in drink. J. W. Fergusson, an appren- 
 tice on the Messenger, who lived to a ripe old age, and 
 who was afterwards one of the proprietors, has left 
 with me his written recollections of Poe. He says that 
 " like others in his day Poe was addicted to periodical 
 sprees, but they did not interfere to any extent with his 
 writings." Mr. Fergusson, who visited the residence of 
 T. W. White, also Mrs. Bernard, a daughter of White's, 
 both in a position to know, stated that they never 
 knew of any flirtation between Poe and Eliza White, 
 as has been intimated. They were never more than 
 friends. This has also been confirmed by Mrs. Clemm. 
 In the December, 1835, Messenger, Poe in a notice of 
 Chief Justice Marshall, whom he met in the early days 
 at church with Mrs. Allan, spoke of him as: "Our great 
 and lamented countryman, fellow-townsman, neighbor, 
 and friend — for by all these names did a fortuitous 
 conjuncture of circumstances, including his own kind 
 and prideless heart, entitle us to call him." While Poe 
 labored at the editorial desk of the Messenger, White 
 the proprietor travelled about Virginia for subscrip- 
 tions. The list of subscribers increased, but likewise 
 the expense account. Poe was ambitious, and thought 
 that he was entitled to more salary, or a proprietary 
 interest in the journal, but White did not feel inclined 
 to offer either. Poe was also becoming very solicitous 
 
xl MEMOIR 
 
 for the publication of his tales, and anxious to be nearer 
 the larger publication houses. 
 
 After the Harpers returned the manuscript of his 
 tales he began a correspondence with Saunders & Otley 
 of New York.^ They read his manuscript and seemed 
 disposed to become his publishers here and in England, 
 but at the moment could not take upon themselves to 
 decide for their paternal house abroad. They were 
 also anxious to have the finished manuscript of the 
 tales in order to send out by the next packet. Poe sent 
 his friend Edward W. Johnson of the South Carolina 
 College, who was in New York, to see the firm. His 
 letter of October 4, 1836, stated that he had informed 
 the firm "that the writing of the tales in their final 
 form had yet made too little progress to render so 
 speedy a transmission of the copy possible, and that 
 as the months of November and December are the 
 most advantageous in European publication they had 
 better send back the MS. in their hands, which may 
 be found important in the rapid finishing of the work. 
 This the firm promised to do at once through Smith 
 the bookseller, or the regular mode of conveyance." 
 Johnson advised Poe to send back the finished MS. 
 with all possible expedition, in time for one of the 
 earliest packets. This matter is important as showing 
 that at so late a date Poe's tales in hand were far from 
 being considered finished or complete. 
 
 At this time Poe was in correspondence with Dr. 
 F. L. Hawks, who held out some prospects for employ- 
 ment on the New York Review, to which Poe after- 
 wards made one contribution.^ 
 
 ' MS. from Poe's Southern Literary Messenger desk. 
 
 ^ I have copies of the Southern Literary Messenger from the 
 Hawks library with the address in Poe's autograph. 
 
MEMOIR xli 
 
 Poe seceded from the Messenger in January, 1837, 
 and went to New York. Here the financial panic of 
 the time changed his plans. The family were com- 
 pelled to take boarders, and Poe eked out a living 
 doing literary hack work. In the American Monthly 
 Magazine for June, 1837, he published the tale "Mystifi- 
 cation," as "Von Jung, the Mystific." He completed his 
 tale, begun in the Messenger, the " Narrative of Arthur 
 Gordon Pym," which the Harpers published in July, 
 1838, but it brought him no financial help. He had 
 made the acquaintance of an English writer of juvenile 
 books, James Pedder, who interested himself in his 
 welfare and arranged for the family to go to Philadel- 
 phia. Pedder edited the Farmer's Cabinet of Philadel- 
 phia, in the making up of which Poe is thought to have 
 rendered some assistance. It is stated that the family 
 resided with the Pedders for a brief period. That Poe 
 felt grateful to them is evident from the fact that one 
 of the first copies of his Tales of the Grotesque and 
 Arabesque from the press of Lea & Blanchard, Phila- 
 delphia, 1840, was given to the "Misses Pedders with 
 his grateful acknowledgments." The volumes were re- 
 cently sold at a book-auction sale. It is also stated 
 that Pedder arranged with Poe to get out The Con- 
 chologist's First Book ; or, a System of Testaceous Mala- 
 cology, published by Haswell, Harrington & Haswell, 
 Philadelphia, 1839. It was charged that this was largely 
 a reprint of Captain Thomas Brown's Conchology, which 
 Poe denied. A second edition, with a new preface, ad- 
 ditions, and alterations, was issued by Poe in 1840, 
 and a third, without his name on the title-page, in 
 1845. In his criticisms in the Messenger Poe shows early 
 knowledge on this subject. The Baltimore Museum 
 
xlii MEMOIR 
 
 for September, 1838, contained "Ligeia," followed by 
 "How to Write a Blackwood Article (The Signora 
 Psyche Zenobia) " and "A Predicament (The Scythe 
 of Time)," in December; "Literary Small Talk," in 
 January and February, and the poem "The Haunted 
 Palace" in April. The Baltimore Book for 1839 printed 
 "Slope (Silence)." "The Devil in the Belfry" ap- 
 peared in the Philadelphia Saturday Evening Chronicle 
 and Mirror of the Times, May 8. He had also contrib- 
 uted one short article to the Pittsburg Literary Ex- 
 aminer and Western Monthly Review. 
 
 In July, 1839, Poe began to edit Burton's Gentleman's 
 Magazine, and to this magazine he contributed many 
 of his writings, including "The Journal of Julius Rod- 
 man." He made numerous compilations of various 
 articles. Field sports, and published "The Philosophy of 
 Furniture." As was his habit in making up " Margina- 
 lia" for the Messenger, he arranged matter here under 
 the heading: 
 
 "OMNIANA. 
 
 Every thing by starts, but nothing long. 
 
 Dryden. 
 various; that the mind 
 Of desultory man, studious of change, 
 And pleased with novelty, may be indulged. 
 
 Cowper." 
 
 His correspondence with Dr. J. E. Snodgrass while 
 editing the magazine gives an intimate view of his life 
 for this period. The Philadelphia Saturday Evening 
 Chronicle and Mirror of the Times, June 13, 1840, an- 
 nounced that Poe would publish, the following January, 
 a new magazine, — The Penn Magazine. His illness was 
 mentioned as the reason for the postponement of this 
 publication until March, 1841. 
 
MEMOIR xHii 
 
 In the December Casket Poe published "The Man 
 of the Crowd." The Saturday Evening Post, February 
 20, 1841, announced that on account of the disturbance 
 in money matters The Penn Magazine would not be 
 published, but that Poe would assume the editorial 
 chair of Graham's Magazine, which he did in April. He 
 however continued to cherish hopes of getting out his 
 Penn Magazine, which he considered "only scotched, 
 not killed." He gave much earnest work to Graham's, 
 and contributed to the magazine some of his best writ- 
 ings. He wrote on the subject of cryptography, which 
 attracted attention, and began to show his analytical 
 powers. In a letter from F. W. Thomas in May, 1841, 
 some possibilities of a government position at a good 
 salary, with leisure for literary labors, was hinted to 
 Poe. The idea haunted him for several years, but no- 
 thing ever materialized. 
 
 In August, 1 841, Poe made a proposition to Lea & 
 Blanchard to publish a second edition of his tales of 
 1840, which they rejected. Poe resigned from Gra- 
 ham's Magazine in May, 1842, and was succeeded by 
 R. W. Griswold. 
 
 F. W. Thomas states: "I met Poe in Philadelphia 
 during September, 1842. He hved in a rural home on 
 the outskirts of the city. His house was small, but 
 comfortable inside for one of the kind. The rooms 
 looked neat and orderly, but everything about the 
 place wore an air of pecuniary want. Although I ar- 
 rived late in the morning Mrs. Clemm, Poe's mother- 
 in-law, was busy preparing for his breakfast. My pres- 
 ence possibly caused some confusion, but I noticed 
 that there was delay and evident diflSculty in procuring 
 the meal. His wife entertained me. Her manners were 
 
xliv MEMOIR 
 
 agreeable and graceful. She had well formed, regular 
 features, with the most expressive and intelligent eyes 
 I ever beheld. Her pale complexion, the deep lines in 
 her face and a consumptive cough made me regard 
 her as the victim for an early grave. She and her 
 mother showed much concern about Eddie, as they 
 called Poe, and were anxious to have him secure work. 
 I afterwards learned from Poe that he had been to 
 New York in search of employment and had also made 
 effort to get out an edition of his tales, but was unsuc- 
 cessful. 
 
 " When Poe appeared his dark hair hung carelessly 
 over his high forehead, and his dress was a little slovenly. 
 He met me cordially, but was reserved, and complained 
 of feeling unwell. His pathetic tenderness and loving 
 manners towards his wife greatly impressed me. I was 
 not long in observing with deep regret that he had 
 fallen again into habits of intemperance. I ventured to 
 remonstrate with him. He admitted yielding to temp- 
 tation to drink while in New York and turned the sub- 
 ject off by telling an amusing dialogue of Lucian, the 
 Greek writer. We visited the city together and had an 
 engagement for the following day. I left him sober, 
 but he did not keep the engagement and wrote me that 
 he was ill." 
 
 There are more pleasant reminiscences of his home 
 life in Philadelphia recorded than this. While he edited 
 Graham's Magazine the family exercised a simple hos- 
 pitality. They entertained guests, had sufficient means 
 to live upon, and Poe was temperate in his habits. His 
 wife ruptured a blood vessel later on; he gave up his 
 position, and has told in his letters how during this 
 period he had recourse to drink to drown his sorrows 
 
MEMOIR xlv 
 
 Poe had several interviews with Charles Dickens in 
 Philadelphia, and at this time corresponded with 
 Thomas HoUey Chivers, James Russell Lowell, and 
 John Tomlin. 
 
 After the turn of 1843, Poe became closely associated 
 with the Philadelphia Saturday Museum. In this paper 
 he published a severe criticism on Griswold's Poe}s 
 and Poetry of America, for which it is said Griswold 
 never forgave him. F. W. Thomas states: "Poe kept up 
 a continuous warfare upon Griswold in the Museum, 
 poking fun at him, and alluding to him as Mr. Driswold 
 of Graham's Magazine, in childish humor." 
 
 In a letter to Lowell in March, 1843, Poe stated that 
 he was not editing the Museum, although an announce- 
 ment was prematurely made to that effect. This has 
 never been clearly understood, as no file of the Museum 
 can be found. F. W. Thomas states that the Museum an- 
 nounced: "We have secured at a high salary the services 
 of E. A. Poe, Esq., a gentleman whose high and versatile 
 abilities have always spoken for themselves, and who 
 after the first of May will aid us in the editorial conduct 
 of the journal." In a letter written to Thomas by Poe, 
 February 25, 1843, it is stated that a copy of the Mu- 
 seum containing his Biography was also forwarded. 
 As the only copy of this Biography known, presumed to 
 have been Poe's own, and made up of pasted clippings, 
 is of March 4, 1843, it has puzzled Poe's editors to under- 
 stand how Poe sent a copy of the paper of a week earlier, 
 as the letter indicated. 
 
 Mr. Thomas states that the biography of Poe in the 
 Museum had a second edition, which that paper an- 
 nounced as follows: "The Spirit of the Times of Friday 
 says, 'The Sa.tnTda.y Museum of this week contains a very 
 
xlvi MEMOIR 
 
 fair likeness of our friend Edgar A. Poe, Esq., with a 
 full account of his truly eventful life. We look upon 
 Mr. Poe as one of the most powerful, chaste, and erudite 
 writers of the day, and it gives us pleasure to see him 
 placed through the public press in his proper position 
 before the world.' 
 
 " We are glad to hear so good a paper as the Times 
 speak thus highly of Mr. Poe, not only from the justice 
 which it renders that powerful writer, but because we 
 have been so fortunate as to secure his services as asso- 
 ciate editor of the Saturday Museum, where we intend 
 it shall be placed beyond the reach of competition. So 
 great was the interest excited by the biography and 
 poems of Mr. Poe published in the Museum of last week, 
 that to supply those who were disappointed in obtaining 
 copies we shall be at the expense of an extra edition, 
 which will be printed with corrections and additions. 
 Of this extra we shall publish an edition on fine white 
 paper. It will be ready for delivery at the office Satur- 
 day morning." 
 
 In a later Museum sent to Thomas by Poe it was 
 stated under the heading, "Quick Perception": "We 
 have published in the biographical sketch of Mr. Poe 
 gome evidences of the wonderful power which his mind 
 possesses in deciphering the most complicated and diffi- 
 cult questions. We have another striking instance of 
 the exercise of this power. The Spirit of the Times 
 copied the following puzzle a few days since. A Nice 
 Puzzle. The Baltimore Sun gives the following oddity 
 and asks for its solution. [Here follows an array of mixed 
 words and letters.] The moment it met our eye hap- 
 pening to be in company with Mr. Poe we pointed out 
 the article, when he immediately gave us the solution." 
 
MEMOIR xlvii 
 
 The prospectus of the Stylus, another magazine, 
 was issued through the columns of the Museum. With 
 a view of securing subscribers to the magazine, and with 
 some hopes of hearing something further about the 
 government position, Poe went to Washington in March, 
 1843. F. W. Thomas states: "Poe sent me the notes 
 for the Museum biography, but I evaded writing them. 
 I told him afterwards that I knew more of his history 
 than he had sent me. He was amused, and laughed the 
 matter off by confessing that the story was intended to 
 help the magazine project. I was confined to my room 
 by sickness when Poe came to Washington early in 
 1843. He was sober when I saw him, but afterward in 
 the company of old friends he drank to excess. My 
 physician attended him for several days, and he suffered 
 much from his indiscretion." Poe wrote a letter March 
 i5, 1843, that he arrived home in Philadelphia "in 
 safety and sober." In June he won the hundred-dollar 
 prize with his tale "The Gold-Bug" from the Dollar 
 Newspaper. He asked Griswold to send him five dollars 
 and to come to see him June 11, as stated in Griswold's 
 memoir. With a view of raising funds he contemplated 
 the publication of his tales in serial form, but only 
 one number was issued. 
 
 This was published about the last of August, 1843, — 
 "The Prose Romances of Edgar A. Poe. No. i. The 
 Miurders of the Rue Morgue and The Man that was 
 Used Up, 1843. Philadelphia: Published by William 
 H. Graham." Poe sent a notice of this to a New York 
 magazine early in September, with the latter tale in- 
 cluded. It was about this time that he made an at- 
 tempt upon the lecture platform, which proved a fail- 
 ure. After Griswold withdrew from Graham's, Poe 
 
xlviii MEMOIR 
 
 began to contribute to the critical department. He had 
 a review of "Orion" in the March, 1844, number, and 
 after that had a correspondence with the author R. H. 
 Home, to whom he sent his tale " The Spectacles " 
 with a view of publication in England. 
 
 Poe went to New York early in April, 1844. On his 
 arrival he wrote to Mrs. Clemm a letter dated "April 7, 
 (just after breakfast)," which shows interesting charac- 
 teristics of his domestic life. In this letter he mentions 
 the "Duane" Southern Literary Messengeri. He used 
 them in preparing his tales of 1840. I found the volumes 
 some years ago in an old Boston second-hand book-shop. 
 His "Balloon Hoax" appeared in the New York Sun 
 April 13, 1844. He corresponded with Lowell in May 
 regarding the writing of his biography for Graham's. 
 In June he wrote a letter to Charles Anthon asking his 
 influence to induce the Harpers to publish his tales in 
 five volumes. This matter was delayed until the fall, and 
 Anthon replied that he was unable to assist him. The 
 Columbian Magazine for August had a paper by Poe 
 on "Mesmeric Revelation." Shortly afterwards he was 
 engaged as an assistant by N. P. Willis, who was con- 
 verting the New Mirror into a daily, the Evening Mirror. 
 He had been contributing to Godey's, Graham's, and 
 the Southern Literary Messenger and Democratic Review 
 
 " The Raven " first appeared in the Evening Mirror of 
 January 29, 1845. F. W. Thomas says: "Poe stated 
 that ' The Raven ' was written in a day. The idea of 
 having it appear anonymously was a whim of his, like 
 Coleridge's publication of his 'Raven.' He afterwards 
 thought it a mistake, and conceived the idea of having 
 it introduced in Willis's paper with his name. Poe read 
 all the older English poets with fondness, and his name 
 
MEMOIR xlix 
 
 of Quarles merely had reference in his mind to the old 
 English poet." It has been stated that "The Raven" 
 was printed from advance sheets of the American Whig 
 Review, which may have been the case, but in such 
 an event Poe handled the proof and made corrections. 
 The two publications show a number of deviations. 
 On May 4, 1845, Poe wrote F. W. Thomas that "The 
 Raven" was copied into the Broadway Journal by 
 Briggs, his associate, before he joined the paper. Poe 
 had some idea of having his poems published by Clarke 
 of London, which were to be introduced by Griswold. 
 He made an announcement in the Mirror of February 
 15, 1845, that the poems would shortly appear in the 
 series, with other American poets. The sketch of Poe 
 written by Lowell, with a portrait, appeared in the Feb- 
 ruary Graham's Magazine. On February 28 Poe lec- 
 tured in New York on the subject of "American Po- 
 etry." He resigned from the Mirror March 8, and in the 
 issue of that journal for the same date appeared the 
 answer to Poe's Longfellow criticisms signed, "Outis." 
 On this date C. F. Briggs also wrote in a letter that Poe 
 was his assistant on the Broadway Journal. The South- 
 ern Literary Messenger for April, 1845, announced: 
 "Literary Criticisms: E. A. Poe, Esq. We have engaged 
 the services of Mr. Poe; who will contribute monthly a 
 critique raisonnee of the most important forthcoming 
 works in this Country and in Europe." Poe had con- 
 tributed "The Raven" in a revised form to the Mes- 
 senger in March. B. B. Minor, editor of the Messenger, 
 stated to me that he had an arrangement with John 
 Biscoe, publisher of the Broadway Journal, to take sub- 
 scriptions in New York; that there had been some dis- 
 pute about the amount due Poe by the Messenger, and 
 
I MEMOIR 
 
 Biscoe paid Poe without authority, never making the 
 Messenger any returns. Poe did not contribute to the 
 Messenger again until J. R. Thompson became editor. 
 The Mirror of July 19, 1845, gave seven entire pages 
 to an event in New York City, which must have been 
 considered of importance, in which Poe figured promi- 
 nently. He had at some time previously had a disagree- 
 ment with H. T. Tuckerman, but they met again on 
 this occasion and renewed their friendship.' It was the 
 commencement exercises of Rutgers Female Institute, 
 which took place July 11, when the Rutgers Street 
 Church was crowded. The committee on the composi- 
 tion of the First Department consisted of Edgar A. Poe, 
 Chairman, W. D. Snodgrass, and Henry T. Tuckerman. 
 The first award in poetry was given to a poem, of a little 
 over one hundred lines, beginning, — 
 
 " Deep in a glade by trees o'erhung." 
 
 This poem was afterwards read to the audience by 
 Poe. On the stage with Poe were Professor Tellkampf, 
 Professor Lewis, Professor Elias Loomis, Dr. J. W. 
 Francis, and other men of eminence. His "Tales" (By 
 Edgar A. Poe. New York: Wiley & Putnam. 1845) 
 were published the latter part of June. 
 
 In the Broadway Journal of October 11, in answer 
 to some comments by Willis regarding the Tales, Poe 
 replied "that he was not preparing another edition 
 for England; that his 'Tales' had been reproduced in 
 England — long ago, but he had nothing to do with 
 the reproduction; that if he was to issue another edition, 
 
 ' Mentioned in a letter of Charles Fenno Hoffman to Griswold, 
 July II, 1845: Passages from the Correspondenceand other Papers 
 of R. W. Griswold (Cambridge, Mass., 1898), p. 186. 
 
MEMOIR li 
 
 instead of ' Tales ' he would style them 'The Gold-Bug 
 and Other Tales.' " Poe's habit of apologizing for errors 
 committed was not confined to his letters. In the 
 Broadway Journal for August 30, 1845, he wrote: "We 
 thank the New- York correspondent of the Cincinnati 
 Gazette for the gentlemanly tone of his reply to some 
 late pettish comments of our own. We saw only a por- 
 tion of one of his letters. Had we seen more, we should 
 at once, through the precision and purity of his style, 
 have recognized a friend." R. H. Stoddard, one of Poe's 
 later biographers, sent a poem, "The Grecian Flute," to 
 the Broadway Journal. In the issueof July 26, Poe stated: 
 "We' fear we have mislaid the poem," and August 2: 
 "We doubt the originahty of 'The Grecian Flute' for 
 the reason that it is too good at some points to be so 
 bad at others. Unless the author can reassure us we 
 decUne it." This is not in full accord with statements 
 of the affair afterwards published by Stoddard, who also 
 failed to tell that on another occasion he wrote to Poe for 
 his autograph. On October 16, Poe read his boyish poem, 
 "Al Aaraaf," before the Boston Lyceum, which inci- 
 dent provokedmuch comment and criticism at the time. 
 In the Broadway Journal Poe revised and published 
 most of his tales and poems. His romantic acquaintance 
 with Mrs. Frances Sargent Osgood began while he 
 edited this journal. He had eulogized her in his New 
 York~ lecture and sent her by Willis a copy of "The 
 Raven," with a desire for her opinion and a personal in- 
 troduction. A few days after this he called at the Astor 
 House with Willis to meet her. In a letter written to 
 Griswold she said: "I shall never forget the morning 
 when I was summoned to the drawing room by Mr. 
 Willis to receive him. With his proud and beautiful 
 
Hi MEMOIR 
 
 head erect, his dark eyes flashing with the electric light 
 of feeling and of thought, a peculiar, an inimitable 
 blending of sweetness and hauteur in his manner, he 
 greeted me, calmly, gravely, almost coldly, yet with so 
 marked an earnestness that I could not help being 
 deeply impressed by it. From that moment until his 
 death we were friends; although we met only during 
 the first year of our acquaintance." 
 
 Previous biographies of Poe state that Mrs. Osgood 
 sent some lines in the character of "Israfel" addressed 
 to Poe, which appeared in the Broadway Journal April 
 5, 1845, to which he responded, April 26, with his lines 
 
 "ToF ," and signed "E." The "Israfel" verses by 
 
 Mrs. Osgood did not appear in the Broadway Journal 
 until November 29. In that journal's issue of April 5 
 is printed a poem, "The Rivulet's Dream " (From the 
 German of Somebody), signed Kate Carol, preceded by 
 a Poe note stating: "We might guess who is the fair 
 author of the following lines, which have been sent us 
 in a MS., evidently disguised — but we are not satisfied 
 with guessing and would give the world to know." In 
 the following week's issue appeared a poem signed by 
 Mrs. Osgood, — "Love's Reply," concluding "write 
 from your heart to me." She used the pseudonjmi of 
 "Kate Carol," and also included this poem of "The 
 Rivulet's Dream" in her later publications. Poe pub- 
 
 Ushed, April 26, his lines "To F ," signed "E.," 
 
 conjecturally to Mrs. Osgood. In the Editorial Mis- 
 cellany of the same number Poe printed " Impromptu. 
 To Kate Carol." 
 
 "When from your gems of thought I turn 
 To those pure orbs, your heart to learn, 
 I scarce know which to prize most high — 
 The bright i-dea, or bright dear-eye." 
 
MEMOIR liii 
 
 On May 31 is published a poem, "Lenore," signed 
 "Clarice," which Poe attributed to Mrs. Osgood 
 December 13. This was followed by a signed poem by 
 Mrs. Osgood, August 30, "Slander," referring to the 
 "breaking of somebody's heart." She sent another 
 poem, September 6, "Echo Song," commencing, — 
 
 "I know a noble heart that beats 
 For one it loves how 'wildly well! '" 
 
 It was to this that Poe evidently responded, Septem- 
 ber 13, with his short lines "To F ," afterwards ad- 
 dressed in his poems of 1845 "To F s S. O d." 
 
 She wrote again November 22, with lines beginning, — 
 
 "O! they never can know that heart of thine, 
 Who dare accuse Ihee of flirtation!" 
 
 The following week's issue contained her "Israfel" 
 verses. Her contributions after this take a more serious 
 turn. On December 13 she has " A Shipwreck," followed 
 in the next by some scolding verses commencing, — 
 
 "Though friends had warned me all the while, 
 And blamed my willing blindness, 
 I did not once mistrust your smiles, 
 Or doubt your tones of kindness. 
 
 "I sought you not — you came to me — 
 With words of friendly greeting: 
 Alas! how different now I see 
 That ill-starred moment's meeting." 
 
 These were her last verses in the Broadway Journal, 
 but she sent some lines to the Metropolitan about Poe 
 in January, 1849, and published others, in her volume 
 of poems, prior to her death. 
 
 The Broadway Journal also contains contributions 
 
llV MEMOIR 
 
 from Anne C. Lynch, Mary E. Hewett, Mary L. Law- 
 son, and Elizabeth Fries Ellet. 
 
 Poe afterwards met Mrs. Osgood at the weekly re- 
 ceptions of Anne Charlotte Lynch in Waverley Place, 
 and his lines "A Valentine" were addressed to her. 
 She has intimated that her influence over Poe was for 
 his good, and that she corresponded with him at his 
 wife's request. Mrs. E. F. Ellet while visiting the Poe 
 home saw one of these letters couched in rather endear- 
 ing terms. She consulted with Mrs. Osgood and some 
 of her friends, and a committee of Margaret Fuller and 
 one other was deputized to recall all her letters. Poe 
 was surprised when they called and stated their errand, 
 and in the flush of excitement remarked that "Mrs. 
 Ellet should look after her own letters," which only 
 added fuel to the flame of scandal. Mrs. Ellet's brother 
 demanded her letters from Poe, who in the mean time 
 had left them at her door. Mrs. Osgood was on her 
 deathbed when she wrote Griswold: "I think no one 
 could know him — no one has known him personally — 
 certainly no woman — without feeling the same inter- 
 est. I can sincerely say that, although I have fre- 
 quently heard of aberrations on his part from 'the 
 straight and narrow path,' I have never seen him other-, 
 wise than gentle, generous, well bred, and fastidiously 
 refined. To a sensitive and delicately-nurtured woman 
 there was a peculiar and irresistible charm in the chival- 
 ric, graceful, and almost tender reverence with which he 
 invariably approached all women who won his respect. 
 It was this that first commanded and always retained 
 my regard for him." 
 
 From October, when Poe borrowed fifty dollars from 
 Horace Greeley on a promissory note, with which to 
 
MEMOIR Iv 
 
 purchase the full control of the Broadway Journal, he 
 had a hard struggle to sustain the paper. He was har- 
 assed for ready funds, and compelled to discontinue 
 December 26, 1845. About this time his volume of 
 poems, The Raven and Other Poems, was issued. 
 During the latter part of this year he also worked get- 
 ting out books, among them The Literary Emporium 
 and the third edition of his Conchologist's First 
 Book. At the turn of the year 1846, Poe had little 
 in sight to cheer him, except his literary reputation. 
 The publication of "The Raven," his connection with 
 the Broadway Journal, followed by the publication of 
 the two volumes of his writings, had made him much 
 sought after in certain social and literary circles of 
 New York. He was for a time a literary lion. At "an 
 earlier period in his career he wrote in the Messenger 
 how he arrived at a "Lionship," by his attention to 
 " Nosology." Then his experiences were published as 
 " Some Passages in the Life of a Lion." He had not 
 forgotten this, and being in need of funds, as one of his 
 recent biographers has facetiously implied, he began to 
 "make copy out of his friends." "The Literati of New 
 York" was published in Godey's Lady s Book from May 
 to October, attracting much attention and comment. 
 In the introduction Poe stated: "My design is, in giving 
 my unbiased opinion of the literati (male and "female) 
 of New York, to give at the same time very closely, if 
 not with absolute accuracy, that of conversational so- 
 ciety in literary circles. It must be expected, of course, 
 that, in innumerable particulars, I shall differ from the 
 voice, that is to say, what appears to be the voice, of 
 the public; but this is a matter of no consequence what- 
 ever." The papers numbered thirty-eight and were 
 
ivi MEMOIR 
 
 thought to complete the series. Another number not 
 mentioned by Poe's editors appeared in the Democratic 
 Review for August, 1848, on S. Anna Lewis. The criti- 
 cisms made while the papers were being published in 
 Godey's apparently caused Poe to be cautious. An ex- 
 amination of the original manuscript he sent to Godey's 
 shows that he made many changes in his proofs. In 
 some instances entire pages are erased and omitted from 
 the printed text. The passages struck out have mainly 
 an irreligious tone. 
 
 An installment of " Marginalia " printed in the Demo- 
 cratic Review for July, 1846, has also been overlooked 
 by most of Poe's editors. This deals with a French 
 translation of Lady Morgan's Letters on Italy ; Decline 
 of the Drama; The Alphadelphia Tocsin; Simms's 
 Areytos ; Goethe's Sorrows of Werther, and Cranch's 
 poems. In view of the discussion as to Poe's know- 
 ledge of German, it is of interest that in his notice of 
 the Sorrows of Werther, he said : "The title is mistrans- 
 lated: — Lieden does not mea.n Sorrows, hut Sufferings." * 
 
 While Poe sent occasional contributions to other 
 magazines, his main source of revenue at this period 
 was Godey's. The number of drafts drawn on Godey's 
 by Poe, which now turn up as autographic mementoes 
 of the poet, indicate that he drew his pay punctually. 
 In Griswold's volume of The Literati, 1850, appears an 
 interesting Poe notice of Henry B. Hirst. It contains 
 lines quoted from both "Lenore" and "Ulalume." The 
 text of this has eluded search until recently, when thi 
 manuscript was called to my attention among the pa- 
 pers of the late E. C. Stedman. It had been sent tc 
 Graham's Magazine, but was not published. 
 
 ' Poe's spelling of "Leiden'' is incorrect. He also has "Wer- 
 ter " for Werther. 
 
MEMOIR Ivii 
 
 Miss Sarah F. Miller, long a resident of the Bronx, 
 New York, gives the following recollections of the Poe 
 family at this time: — 
 
 "One of the most cherished memories of my earliest 
 childhood is the recollection of having often seen Edgar 
 Allan Poe. When I was a little girl we lived in a house 
 facing Turtle Bay, on the East River, near the present 
 47th Street. Among our nearest neighbors was a charm- 
 ing family trio consisting of Mr. Poe, his wife Virginia, 
 and his mother-in-law, Mrs. Clemm. Poor Virginia Poe 
 was very ill at the time, and I never saw her leave her 
 home. 
 
 "Poe and Mrs. Clemm would very frequently call 
 on us. He would also run over every little while to ask 
 my father to lend him our rowboat, and then how he 
 would enjoy himself pulling at the oars over to the little 
 islands just south of Blackwell's Island, for his after- 
 noon swim. 
 
 " Mrs. Clemm and my mother soon became the best 
 of friends, and she found mother a sympathetic listener 
 to all her sad tales of poverty and want. I would often 
 see her shedding tears as she talked. In the midst of 
 this friendship they came and told us they were going 
 to move to a distant place called Fordham, where they 
 had rented a little cottage, feeling sure the pure country 
 air would do Mrs. Poe a world of good." 
 
 It was very late in the spring when Poe and his fam- 
 ily retired to the cottage at Fordham. Mrs. Gove-Nich- 
 ols wrote to the Sixpenny Magazine, February, 1863, 
 of a visit made to Poe about this time, as follows: — 
 
 "We found him, and his wife, and his wife's mother 
 — who was his aunt — living in a little cottage at the 
 top of a hill. There was an acre or two of greensward, 
 
Iviii MEMOIR 
 
 fenced in about the house, as smooth as velvet and as 
 clean as the best kept carpet. There were some grand 
 old cherry trees in the yard, that threw a massive shade 
 around them. The house had three rooms — a kitchen, 
 a sitting-room, and a bed-chamber over the sitting- 
 room. There was a piazza in front of the house. The 
 sitting-room was laid out with check matting; four 
 chairs, a light stand and a hanging book-shelf com- 
 pleted the furniture. On the book-shelf there lay a 
 volume of Poe's poems. He took it down, wrote my 
 name in it, and gave it to me." 
 
 Poe appears to have kept a supply of his poems of 
 1845 on hand, and made many presentation copies. 
 They have frequently turned up at book- auction sales 
 and in other ways since his death. He presented Mrs. 
 Shew with one at Fordham, which was sold by a London 
 bookseller some years ago. This was said to have slight 
 changes made in the text by Poe, which is an error. Poe 
 tore out a leaf from a volume of the poems to send Mrs. 
 Whitman the early poem of "Helen," and also pre- 
 sented her with a volume which is now in a New York 
 private library. He also sent a copy of his poems to 
 Miss Elizabeth Barrett Barrett (afterwards Mrs. 
 Browning), who wrote him a letter in April, 1846, in 
 which she stated: "Your 'Raven' has produced a 
 sensation, a 'fit horror,' here in England. Some of my 
 friends are taken by the fear of it and some by the 
 music. I hear of persons haunted by the 'Nevermore,' 
 and one acquaintance of mine who has the misfortune 
 of possessing a 'bust of Pallas' never can bear to look at 
 it in the twilight. I think you will like to be told that 
 our great poet Mr. Browning, the author of 'Paracelsus' 
 and the 'Bells and Pomegranates,' was struck much 
 
MEMOIR lix 
 
 by the rhythm of that poem. Then there is a tale of 
 yours, which is going the rounds of the newspapers, 
 about mesmerism, throwing us all into 'most admired 
 disorder,' and dreadful doubts as to whether 'it can be 
 true,' as the children say of ghost stories. The certain 
 thing in the tale in question is the power of the writer, 
 and the faculty he has of making horrible improbabili- 
 ties seem near and familiar." Very many associations 
 of the poet cling around the Fordham cottage. Al- 
 though he struggled here with poverty, and both he 
 and his wife were ill, the quiet retreat gave him much 
 pleasure. He was in communication in August with 
 P. P. Cooke about his biography, which appeared in 
 the Southern Literary Messenger for January, 1848. 
 It was styled " Edgar A. Poe. An estimate of his literary 
 merits. By P. P. Cooke," and stated: "The following 
 paper is a sequel to Mr. Lowell's memoir (so called), 
 of Mr. Poe, published two or three years since in Gra- 
 ham's Magazine. Mr. P. edited the Messenger for sev- 
 eral years, and the pages of that Magazine would seem 
 therefore a proper place for the few hurried observa- 
 tions which I have made upon his writings and genius." 
 The article was largely a review of the "Raven," the 
 "Valdemar Case," "Ligeia," "The Fall of the House 
 of Usher," and "Lenore." The concluding remarks, 
 probably inspired by Poe, were as follows: "As regards 
 Wiley & Putnam's tales — I think the book in some 
 respects does him injustice. It contains twelve tales 
 out of more than seventy; and it is made up almost 
 wholly of what may be called his analytic tales. This 
 is not representing the author's mind in its various 
 phases. A reader gathering his knowledge of Mr. Poe 
 from this Wiley & Putnam issue would perceive nothing 
 
Ix MEMOIR 
 
 of the diversity and variety for which his writings are 
 in fact remarkable. Only the pubHcation of all his 
 stories, at one issue, in one book, would show this di- 
 versity in their full force; but much more might have 
 been done to represent his mind by a judicious and not 
 wholly one-toned selection." 
 
 Poe was also in correspondence at this time with 
 William Gilmore Simms and Hawthorne. His letters 
 show his great solicitude for his wife, who was slowly 
 dying. It was while the Literati Papers were running 
 that Poe made some facetious remarks about the poet, 
 Thomas Dunn English, referring to him as Thomas 
 Done Brown. English retaliated in a newspaper article. 
 Poe replied and finally brought suit for damages, and 
 on February 17, 1847, recovered damages of $225.* 
 It was Poe's intention eventually to publish his 
 Literati Papers; and the original memoranda for the 
 prospectus of the Living Writers of America, entirely 
 in his autograph, were in the library of the late Bishop 
 Hurst, which was dispersed at auction in March, 1905. 
 They were written on four pages of folio paper and on 
 four pages of smaller size, with many alterations and 
 erasures by Poe. The title on the first page was: "The 
 I-iving Writers of America. Some Honest Opinions 
 about their Literary Merits, with Occasional Words of 
 Personality. By Edgar A. Poe. With Notices of the 
 Author by James Russell Lowell & P. P. Cooke." 
 He commenced with a reference to the Godey publica- 
 tions, and said the publisher was badgered into giving 
 
 ' An unpublished letter written by Poe to J. M. Fields, editor 
 of the St. Louis Reveille, dated June 15, 1846, giving an account 
 of the English matter in the New York Mirror was among the 
 papers of the late E. C. Stedman. 
 
MEMOIR Ixi 
 
 it up. He speaks of the English attack and says: "Suc- 
 cess induced me to extend the plan . . . discard petty 
 animosities — it will be seen that where through petu- 
 lance or neglect, or underestimate of the impression the 
 papers were to make, I have done injustice, I have not 
 scrupled to repair the wrong, even at the expense of 
 consistency. . . . Political sectional animosities . . . 
 result a depreciation of Southern and Western talent, 
 which upon the whole is greater, more vivid, fresher, 
 than that of the North, less conventional, less conser- 
 vative — want of centralisation gives birth to a peculiar 
 cliquism whose separate penchants render it nearly 
 impossible to get at the truth — Instance the Human- 
 ity clique — to which belong Emerson, Lowell, Haw- 
 thorne, Godwin, Fuller, Mrs. Child, Whittier — and 
 who judge all literature in accordance with its hobby." 
 There is much of the matter personal and about his 
 literary work; also notes on prominent literary charac- 
 ters of his day, with trenchant criticisms. 
 
 In some correspondence with E. A. Duyckinck in 
 November, 1845, Poe mentions his American Parnas- 
 sus, and the supposition is that he had made a work 
 along this same line at that time, or this may have been 
 the same work revised. Mrs. Gove, who visited the 
 Poe family in October, found them in destitute cir- 
 cumstances, and with a view of rendering aid intro- 
 duced Mrs. M. L. Shew. Some notice of the family's 
 condition was published in the newspapers, and a con- 
 tribution of sixty dollars was raised. Poe wrote an 
 open letter December 30, 1846, endeavoring to modify 
 the humiliating publications. With the turn of the 
 year 1847 ^is wife began to sink. Mrs. Shew had proven 
 the ministering angel to the household. She was in con- 
 
Ixil MEMOIR 
 
 stant attendance, and Poe in his gratitude wrote her a 
 number of letters. He also wrote her two poems. Mrs. 
 William Wiley, a daughter of Mrs. Shew now residing 
 at Long Island, remembers mjiny pleasant reminis- 
 cences of Poe told her by her mother. It was at her 
 house that he wrote an early draft of the "Bells," the 
 manuscript of which, it is claimed, Mrs. Shew sent to 
 England, with other material as a loan. This was after- 
 wards sold, but is now in this country. When Mrs. 
 Wiley was a schoolgirl and was given some lessons on 
 Poe by her teacher, her mother gave her this manu- 
 script to show to her teacher. 
 
 Poe's wife died January 30, 1847. She was buried 
 at Fordham, but her remains were afterwards reinterred 
 in the same plot with Poe at Baltimore. After his 
 wife's death Poe was very ill, which was mentioned by 
 Cooke in the Messenger for January, 1848. -He was 
 cared for by Mrs. Clemm and Mrs. Shew, while other 
 friends raised funds for his support. After some months 
 Poe began to recover, and Mrs. Shew, having other 
 important engagements, took leave of the family and 
 advised Poe to marry a "sensible woman." When he 
 was able to go about again, he spent some time planning 
 his prose poem — "Eureka." In the March Home 
 Journal it was announced that Poe would soon pub- 
 lish The Authors of America, in Prose and Verse, but 
 nothing more was heard of this. It was probably his 
 American Parnassus, which was finally changed to the 
 Living Writers of America. His poem "Ulalume" 
 was published at the close of the year. In the early 
 part of 1848 he had some correspondence looking to- 
 wards the revival of his scheme of publishing the 
 Stylus. He delivered a lecture in the hall of the So- 
 
MEMOIR Ixlii 
 
 ciety Library, New York, in February, on the "Cos- 
 mogony of the Universe." His volume Eureka was 
 published in New York in the suinmer. His own copy 
 of this was also in the Bishop Hurst library sale. This 
 volume was sent after Poe's death by a relative to Gris- 
 wold, who wrote his name and the remark that it was 
 "Poe's private copy" on the first end paper. It is 
 marked throughout with penciled additions and alter- 
 ations. A note in Poe's hand on the last leaf has caused 
 some comment. It reads: "The pain of the considera- 
 tion that we shall lose our identity, ceases at once when 
 we further reflect that the process, as above described, 
 is, neither more nor less than that of the absorption, by 
 each individual intelligence, of all other intelligences 
 (that is, of the Universe) into its own. That God may 
 be all in all, each must become God." Poe embodied 
 some of his ideas in Eureka in an article in Burton's 
 Gentleman's Magazine for August, 1839, which is headed 
 "An Opinion on Dreams." This stated: "Various 
 opinions have been hazarded concerning dreams — 
 whether they have any connection with the invisible 
 and eternal world or not; and it appears to me, the 
 reason why nothing like a definite conclusion has yet 
 been arrived at, is from the circumstance, of the ar- 
 guers never making any distinction between Mind and 
 soul, always speaking of them as one and the same. I 
 believe man to be in himself a Trinity, viz. Mind, Body, 
 and Soul; and thus with dreams, some induced by the 
 mind, and some by the soul. Those connected with the 
 mind, I think proceed partly from supernatural and 
 partly from natural causes; those of the soul I believe 
 are of the immaterial world alone." The remainder of 
 the article endeavors to show how the soul's dream and 
 
Ixiv MEMOIR 
 
 that of the mind are distinguishable; and whether 
 sometimes, or often, they are not both at the same 
 moment bearing their part in the nocturnal vision. It 
 was early in 1848 when Poe wrote the first draft of the 
 "Bells," which he sent to Sartain's Union Magazine, 
 but it did not find publication. He also contributed 
 "Marginalia" and "Fifty Suggestions" to Graham's, 
 and a "Sonnet" to the Union Magazine. 
 
 In July Poe went to Lowell and lectured on the 
 " Poetic Principle." There he made the acquaintance of 
 the Richmond family. Mrs. Richmond was " his Annie." 
 His descriptions in "Landor's Cottage" are said to 
 correspond with his first visit to the Richmond home, 
 and in writing this story he is presumed to have had 
 the Richmond cottage in mind; in fact, he has left 
 a written statement that the tale has something of 
 "Annie" in it. In the light of Poe's later love affairs 
 this is interesting. He says: "As no bell was discern- 
 ible, I rapped with my stick against the door, which 
 stood half- open. Instantly a figure advanced to the 
 threshold — that of a young woman about twenty- 
 eight years of age — slender, or rather slight, and some- 
 what above the medium height. As she approached, 
 with a certain modest decision of step altogether inde- 
 scribable, I said to myself, 'Surely here I have found 
 the perfection of natural, in contradiction from arti- 
 ficial grace.' The second impression which she made 
 on me, but by far the more vivid of the two, was that 
 of enthusiasm. So intense an expression of Romance, 
 perhaps I should call it, or of unworldliness, as that 
 which gleamed from her deep-set eyes, had never so 
 sunk into my heart of hearts before. I know not how 
 it is, but this peculiar expression of the eye, wreathing 
 
MEMOIR Ixv 
 
 itself occasionally into the lips, is the most powerful, 
 if not absolutely the sole spell, which rivets my interest 
 in woman. 'Romance,' provided my readers fully com- 
 prehend what I would here imply by the word 'ro- 
 mance,' and 'womanliness' seem to me convertible 
 terms: and, after all, what man truly loves in woman 
 is, simply, her womanhood. The eyes of Annie (I heard 
 some one from the interior call her 'Annie, darling!') 
 were 'spiritual gray'; her hair, a light chestnut: this is 
 all I had time to observe of her." It was only a few 
 months afterwards when he published his lines 
 
 "To ," giving another romantic description of his 
 
 first meeting with Mrs. Sarah Helen Whitman, — " His 
 Helen of a thousand dreams." 
 
 In July Poe went to Richmond, Virginia, on a lec- 
 ture tour. It is singular that no newspaper notice of 
 his arrival, his departure, nor mention of this visit can 
 be found in that city. As he wrote to Snodgrass of the 
 earlier days in Richmond, he gave way again "to the 
 temptations held out by the spirit of Southern con- 
 viviality." This was Poe's failing, for whenever he 
 listened to the voice of the tempter, he usually suc- 
 cumbed — a glass of wine or cider causing a pro- 
 tracted spree. His visit to the MacKenzie family, 
 where his sister Rosalie resided, was brief, and he 
 spent most of his time among the newspaper fra- 
 ternity. His early child-love. Miss Poitiaux, has stated 
 that he was refused admittance at her home when he 
 called on this visit, because of his condition. In a 
 letter of John R. Thompson to Patterson, dated No- 
 vember 9, 1849, in reply to inquiries concerning Poe, 
 he wrote "that his acquaintance began in the Spring 
 of 1848. That he had heard of Poe being on a de- 
 
Ixvi MEMOIR 
 
 bauch in the lower section of the city for two weeks. 
 The day following Poe called on him." After such a 
 spree as Thompson's letter indicates Poe suffered 
 dreadfully, and it usually took him many days to re- 
 cover. If, as Thompson states, he was able to call on 
 him in so short a time afterwards, Poe was hardly 
 drinking at his worst, but moderately. This is verified 
 by a statement made to me by the late Charles M. 
 Wallace, Richmond's historian, who had an accurate 
 memory. He saw Poe during this visit several times 
 and knew he was drinking, but never saw him unable to 
 take care of himself. Late one night Mr. Wallace was 
 called out of bed by Richmond's best known newspaper 
 editor in that day, who took him to meet the then fa- 
 mous poet at a nearby resort and hear him declaim 
 "Eiureka" and "The Raven," before a select assem- 
 blage of Richmond Bohemians. When he arrived Poe 
 was standing among the assemblage discussing matters 
 of the day. His manners were nervous and his coun- 
 tenance was flushed, but he was not drunk. Mr. Wallace 
 was introduced to Poe, who bowed in a dignified 
 way, and in a few moments by request began his dis- 
 course, which lasted for about an hour, and was enter- 
 taining. It is not thought that Thompson saw much 
 of Poe on this visit, and his information about Poe's 
 habits possibly came second hand. I have another 
 unpublished letter of Thompson's to P. P. Cooke, dated 
 October 17, 1848, in which he states: 1 "Poe is not in 
 Richmond. He remained here about three weeks, hor- 
 ribly drunk, and discoursing 'Eureka' to the audiences 
 of Bar Rooms. His friends tried to get him sober 
 and set him to work, but to no effect, and were com- 
 
 ' John R. Thompson to P. P. Cooke, MS. 
 
MEMOIR Ixvii 
 
 pelled at last to reship him to New York. I was very 
 anxious for him to write something for me, while he 
 remained here, but his 'lucid intervals' were so brief 
 and infrequent that it was quite impossible. 'The Ra- 
 tionale of Verse' I took, more as an act of charity than 
 anything else, for though exhibiting great acquaintance 
 with the subject, it is altogether too bizarre, and too tech- 
 nical for the general reader. Poe is a singular fellow." 
 
 Poe's work during this period shows that he was 
 sober long enough to write many columns of matter. 
 Some of his manuscript, given away by Thompson, is 
 still in Richmond, — "a work of manual art." Besides 
 "The Rationale of Verse" and a review of Mrs. Lewis's 
 poems, in the Messenger, he also sent a new "Literati" 
 paper on Mrs. Lewis to the Democratic Review. He is 
 not thought to have seen Mrs. Shelton, his early love, 
 on this visit. His love affairs were never much of a 
 secret. In her letter to Griswold about Poe in 1850, 
 Mrs. Osgood wrote: "Mrs. Ellet asked an introduction 
 to him and followed him everywhere. Miss Lynch 
 begged me to bring him there and called upon him at 
 his lodgings, Mrs. Whitman besieged him with valen- 
 tines and letters long before he wrote or took any notice 
 of her, and all the others wrote poetry and letters to 
 him." Very much has been written about Poe's rela- 
 tions with women, and his letters and love affairs have 
 been closely investigated, but many incidents hinted 
 at in this letter of Mrs. Osgood, which might put some 
 matters in a different light, have been lost sight of. 
 Mrs. Lewis, who was anxious for public recognition 
 and advertisement of her poems, also followed him 
 about, and he had an ultimate acquaintance with her. 
 He asked her to write his life when he died. Mrs. 
 
Ixviii MEMOIR 
 
 Clemm wrote her letters in the latter days, and after 
 Poe's death went to Uve with her. Her husband wrote 
 Miss S. S. Rice of Baltimore a letter October ii, 1875, 
 which I am permitted to use. He said: "I have resided 
 and practised my profession of the law in Brooklyn for 
 about thirty years. Shortly after I moved here, in 1845, 
 Mr. Poe and I became personal friends. His last resi- 
 dence, and where I visited him oftenest, was in a 
 beautifully secluded cottage at Fordham, fourteen 
 miles above New York. It was there that I often saw 
 his dear wife during her last illness, and attended her 
 funeral. It was from there that he and his ' dear Mud- 
 die' (Mrs. Clemm) often visited me at my house, fre- 
 quently, and at my urgent solicitation, remaining many 
 days. When he finally departed on his last trip south, 
 the kissing and handshaking were at my front door. 
 He was hopeful; we were sad: and tears gushed in 
 torrents as he kissed his dear 'Muddie' and my wife 
 'good-bye.' Alas, it proved, as Mrs. Clemm feared, a 
 final adieu. I offered Mrs. Clemm a home in my 
 family, where she resided imtil 1858, when she re- 
 moved to Baltimore to lay her ashes by the side of 
 her ' darling Eddie.' Mr. Poe was one of the most 
 affectionate, kind-hearted men I ever knew. I never 
 witnessed so much tender affection and devotion as 
 existed in that family of three persons. I have spent 
 weeks in the closest intimacy with him, and never saw 
 him xmder the slightest influence of any stimulants 
 whatever. In my presence he was the polished gentle- 
 man, the profound scholar, the true critic, and the in- 
 spired oracular poet — dreamy and spiritual, lofty, but 
 sad. His biographers have not done his virtues or his 
 genius justice; and, to produce a startling effect by 
 
MEMOIR Ixix 
 
 contrast, have magnified his errors and attributed to 
 him faults that he never had." 
 
 Widi so many devoted lady admirers as Poe had 
 when he was in Richmond on his first visit, his move- 
 ments were closely watched. While the "Whitman 
 romance" had just started, still it was talked about in 
 literary circles and mentioned by Poe himself in Rich- 
 mond. Among the literary characters he met with 
 there was John M. Daniel of the Examiner. They did 
 not get along together, and bad feelings existed between 
 them from the starL Daniel had an acquaintance with 
 Mrs. Whitman's family, and, hearing about Poe's at- 
 tentions, made disparaging remarks, which came to 
 Poe's ears. This with some other dispute about a debt 
 infuriated Poe, who sent a challenge to Daniel to fight 
 a duel.^ The affair was well remembered by Judge 
 Hughes. The newspaper men arranged to have Poe 
 meet Daniel alone in the Examiner office, but the mat- 
 ter was settled without any recourse to arms. Daniel 
 afterwards published an unkind allusion to the reported 
 engagement of Poe and Mrs. Whitman, but became 
 one of his most intimate friends. 'And yet when Poe 
 died he wrote in the Messenger a rather harsh account 
 of his life. Later still he wrote a pleasant and favorable 
 letter about Poe to Mrs. Whitman, which she quoted 
 in her publication, Edgar Poe and Ms Critics. 
 
 After Poe's return home he traveled between New 
 York, Lowell, and Providence, lecturing on the "Poetic 
 Principle." In the Richmond Whig of August 17, 1849, 
 probably in^ired by Poe, it was stated: "This lecture 
 
 ^ The Life of Edgar Allan. Poe. By George E. Woodberry. 
 Houghtion Miflain Co., Boston and New York 1909. Vol. ii, 
 p. 443, reprints a full account. 
 
Ixx MEMOIR 
 
 on the Poetic Principle is one of the course delivered 
 before the Providence Lyceum last fall, the other 
 lecturers being Rufus Choate, Theodore Parker, 
 Alonzo Potter (Bishop of Pennsylvania), Louis Agassiz, 
 the French savant, and Daniel Webster, who opened 
 the course. Mr. Poe had the largest audience of the 
 season, more than 1600 persons." In another notice in 
 this paper Poe gave some mention of the pubUcation 
 of his tales in France, showing a knowledge of the 
 publications. 
 
 Among other incidents in the life of Poe, much has 
 been written about his love entanglements with Mrs. 
 Sarah Helen Whitman. He was to marry her in De- 
 cember. She is said to have heard that Poe was drinking 
 again, and when he called she drenched her handkerchief 
 with ether and threw herself on a sofa, hoping to lose 
 consciousness. She remembered his last words and that 
 she told him that she "loved him." After this Mrs. 
 Whitman mentioned that she plajrf ully sent some verses 
 about him — ' ' Stanzas for Music " — to the Metropolitan 
 Magazine for February, 1849. She always would have 
 it that Poe construed these lines as an olive branch, and 
 in return wrote "Annabel Lee." Poe during his last 
 visit to Richmond stated to Judge Hughes that Mrs. 
 Whitman had made repeated efforts towards a recon- 
 ciliation, which he refused. It seems evident that he 
 paid no attention to her lines in the Metropolitan, ioi 
 Mrs. Whitman again sent other verses to the Southern 
 Literary Messenger, where she knew they would come 
 under his eye. So that Poe might not regard them as 
 old stock, she dated them "Isle of Rhodes, March, 
 1849." They appeared in the June number of the 
 Messenger, beginning, — 
 
MEMOIR Ixxi 
 
 "I bade thee stay. Too well I knew 
 The fault was mine, mine only. " 
 
 Mrs. Whitman forgot to mention these lines in after 
 life, and possibly Uved in hopes that they had been 
 forgotten, but she took pains to revise them for the 
 later pubUcation of her poems. 
 
 After Poe's death Mrs. Whitman made a fetish of his 
 memory. She gave out portions of his letters written 
 to her, and a fragment of a facsimile. After her own 
 death there appeared The Last Letters of Edgar Allan 
 Foe to Sarah Helen Whitman. The matter in the vol- 
 ume appeared in the Century Magazine for January, 
 1909, as "New Light on a Romantic Episode." It was 
 claimed that the letters now appeared without "omis- 
 sions, garbling or diversion." A comparison with that 
 text and the fragment of the facsimile shows a slight 
 difference in at least one of the letters. There are also 
 some deviations between the marriage and another 
 contract as given in the book and magazine. 
 
 After parting with Mrs. Whitman Poe drew closer 
 to "Annie," as his letters show. He also seemed hopeful 
 and made preparations for more active literary labors. 
 In an unpublished letter dated Fordham, Saturday, 
 January 20 (1849), he wrote the American Whig Re- 
 view: 1 "May I trouble you to hand the accompanying 
 brief article to Mr. Whelpley and see if he can give me 
 $10 for it? About four years ago, I think, I wrote a 
 paper on 'The American Drama' for your review. It 
 was printed anonymously — my name not given in 
 the index. The criticism referred chiefly to Willis's 
 'Tortesa* and Longfellow's 'Spanish Student.' Could 
 you procure me the number containing it? " 
 ' Poe to John Priestly, Proprietor, MS. 
 
Ixxii MEMOIR 
 
 His later correspondence shows that the article sent 
 in this communication was "Critics and Criticism," 
 which was not accepted, and he sent it to Graham's, 
 where it did not find publication until after his death. 
 His income does not appear to have been suflScient for 
 his needs, and he had to resort to his former habit of 
 borrowing, as evidenced by a sixty days' note given 
 by him for sixty-seven dollars, February 3, 1849, to 
 Isaac Cooper, a relative of the novelist. In this same 
 month he wrote in a letter to F. W. Thomas: "Right 
 glad am I to find you once more in a true position — 
 'in the field of letters.' Depend upon it after all, 
 Thomas, literature is the most noble of professions. 
 In fact, it is about the only one fit for a man. For my 
 own part there is no seducing me from the path. I 
 shall be a litterateur, at least, all niy life; nor would 
 I abandon the hopes which still lead me on for all the 
 gold in California." He had also remarked to a friend, 
 "One Richard, whom you know is himself again." He 
 sent a review of Griswold's Female Poets of America 
 to the Messenger for February, which has been over- 
 looked by previous biographers. In the March number 
 he wrote his criticism on Lowell's A Fable for Critics. 
 He wrote for Godey's, and had also become a regular 
 contributor to the Boston Flag of Our Union. His con- 
 tributions there have never been known with any de- 
 gree of certainty until now. He contributed: March 3, 
 "A Valentine"; March 17, "Hop Frog"; March 31, 
 "A Dream within a Dream"; April 14, "Von Kem- 
 pelen and his Discovery"; April 21, "Eldorado"; April 
 28, "For Annie"; May 12, "Xing a Paragrab"; June 
 9, "Landor's Cottage," and July 7, "Sonnet — To my 
 Mother." These were mentioned as by Edgar A. Poe, 
 a regular contributor. 
 
MEMOIR Ixxiii 
 
 In May Poe's hopes for the publication of his Sty- 
 lus were revived by finding a partner in E. H. Patter- 
 son. It was with the object of securing subscriptions 
 for this that he started South in June. At Philadelphia 
 he met with his old companions again, with the usual 
 result that he was in the end desperately ill. His 
 friend John Sartain and others took care of him, and he 
 finally arrived in Richmond, Saturday, July 14, 1849. 
 He stopped at the old Swan Tavern, where Dr. George 
 W. Rawlings, the physician who was with his early 
 companion Burling when he died of cholera, attended 
 him. 
 
 Dr. Rawlings, who lived in a small frame house on 
 Broad Street adjoining the Swan Tavejrn, stated that 
 in his delirium Poe drew a pistol and tried to shoot him. 
 Burling, before his death about 1832, lived around the 
 corner from Dr. Rawlings on Ninth Street. When 
 Poe recovered he joined a temperance society. A refer- 
 ence to this from the Philadelphia Bulletin was copied 
 in the Richmond Whig in September, while Poe was 
 in Richmond. The same paper about this time copied 
 a favorable notice from the Cincinnati Atlas, referring 
 to Poe's visit to Richmond and his lecture. A lengthy 
 review of Mrs. Osgood's poems, written by Poe, ap- 
 peared in the August Messenger. He delivered his first 
 lecture August 17 in the Exchange concert rooms. His 
 subject was the "Poetic Principle." The Whig had a 
 favorable notice, and urged him to repeat the lecture. 
 Poe has written in his letters of this lecture, and men- 
 tioned that all the press notices were favorable except 
 one written by Daniel, whom be had once challenged. 
 This notice, inaccessible until now, is of interest, and 
 appeared in the Examiner of August 21, as follows;— , 
 
Ixxiv MEMOIR 
 
 "Poe's subject was the 'Poetic Principle,' and he 
 treated it with all the acuteness and imagination that 
 we had expected from him. We were glad to hear the 
 lecturer explode what he properly pronounced to be 
 the poetic 'heresy of modern times,' to wit: that poetry 
 should have a purpose, an end to accomplish beyond 
 that of ministering to our sense of the beautiful. We 
 have in these days poets of humanity and poets of uni- 
 versal suffrage, poets whose mission it is to break down 
 com laws and poets to build up workhouses. The idea 
 infects half the criticism and all the poetry of this utili- 
 tarian country. But no idea can be more false, as we 
 have elementary faculties in our minds whose end is to 
 reason, others to perceive colors and forms, and others 
 to construct, and as argument, painting, and mechanics 
 are the products of those faculties and are only intended 
 for them; as we have nerves to be pleased with per- 
 fumes; others with gay colors and others with the con- 
 tact of soft bodies — so have we an elementary faculty 
 for perceiving beauty with ends of its own and means 
 of its own — Poetry is the product of this faculty, and 
 of no other; it is addressed to the sense of the beauti- 
 ful and to no other sense. It is ever injured when 
 subjected to the criterion of other faculties, and was 
 never intended to fulfill any other objects than those 
 peculiar to the organ of the mind from which it re- 
 ceived its birth. Mr. Poe made good his distinction 
 with a great deal of acuteness and in a very clever 
 manner. His various pieces of criticism upon the popu- 
 lar poets of the country were for the most part just, 
 and were very entertaining. But we were disap- 
 pointed in Mr. Poe's recitations. We had heard a 
 good deal of his manner, but it does not answer our 
 
MEMOIR IXXV 
 
 wants. His voice is soft and distinct, but neither clear 
 nor sonorous. He does not make rhyme effective; he 
 reads ali verse like blank verse ; and yet he gives it a 
 sing song of his own more monotonous than any versi- 
 fication. On the two last syllables of every sentence 
 he invariably falls a fifth. He did not make his own 
 'Raven' an effective piece of reading. At this we would 
 not be surprised were any other than the author its 
 reader. The chief charm perhaps of that extraordinary 
 composition is the strange and subtle music of the 
 versification. As in Mr. Longfellow's rhythm we can 
 hear it with our mind's ear while we read it ourselves, 
 but no human organs are sufficiently delicate to weave 
 it into articulate sounds. For this reason we are not 
 surprised at ordinary failures in reading these pieces. 
 But we anticipated some peculiar charm in their utter- 
 ances by the lips of him who created the verse, and in 
 this case we were disappointed. A large audience was 
 in attendance. Indeed the concert room was com- 
 pletely filled. Mr. Poe commenced his career in this 
 city, and those who had not seen him since the days 
 of his obscurity of course felt no little curiosity to 
 behold so famous a townsman. Mr. Poe is a small thin 
 man, slightly formed, keen visaged, with dark com- 
 plexion, dark hair, and we believe dark eyes. His face 
 is not an ordinary one. The forehead is well developed 
 and the nose somewhat more prominent than usual. 
 Mr. Poe is a man of very decided genius. Indeed we 
 know of no other writer in the United States who has 
 half the chance to be remembered in the history of 
 literature. But his reputation will rest on a very small 
 minority of his compositions. Among all his poems 
 there are only two pieces which are not execrably bad, — 
 
Ixxvi MEMOIR 
 
 'The Raven' and 'Dream-Land.' The majority of his 
 prose compositions are the children of want and dys- 
 pepsia, of the printer's devils and the blue devils — had 
 he possessed the power of applying his creative faculty, 
 — as have the Miltons, the Shakespeares, and all the 
 other demiurgi, — he would have been a great man. 
 But there is not one trace of that power in any of his 
 compositions that we have read; and if rumor is to 
 be credited his career has been that of the Marlowes, 
 the Jonsons, the Dekkers, and the Websters, the old 
 dramatists and translunary rowdies of the Elizabethan 
 age. Had Mr. Poe possessed talent in the place of 
 genius, he might have been a popular and money- 
 making author. He would have written a great many 
 more good things than he has; but his title to immor- 
 tality would not and could not be surer than it is — • 
 For the few things that the author has written which 
 are at all tolerable are coins stamped with the unmis- 
 takable die. They are of themselves, sui generis, unlike 
 any diagrams in Time's kaleidoscope, either past, pres- 
 ent, or to come — and gleam with the diamond hues of 
 Eternity." 
 
 Poe afterwards called to see Daniel to disabuse his 
 mind of the unfavorable portions of this criticism. He 
 succeeded in so far as to efifect an arrangement to 
 become an associate with Daniel on the Examiner 
 newspaper. It was arranged that he was to do the book 
 reviewing and other literary work. He was also to 
 revise and republish his writings, especially his poems, 
 and the principal poems were to be published in the 
 Examiner. He was shown a desk by Daniel and asked 
 to commence work. This was Daniel's way, and it was 
 also his habit not to say much in his paper about his 
 
MEMOIR Ixxvii 
 
 associates. He always liked Daniel to be kept fully in 
 the foreground. The connection of Poe, however, was 
 talked about in newspaper circles and well understood 
 at the time. 
 The late Bishop 0. P. Fitzgerald wrote: — 
 "I was in Richmond in 1849, and remember Mr. Poe, 
 with his white linen coat and trousers, black velvet vest, 
 and broad Panama hat. He was the most notable 
 figure among the group of specialists that gathered 
 around John M. Daniel, editor of the Richmond Ex- 
 aminer. Daniel was an electric battery, fully charged, 
 whose touches shocked the staid and lofty- minded 
 leaders in Virginia politics. There was about him that 
 indefinable charm that draws men of genius towards 
 one another, though differing in the quality and mea- 
 sure of their endowment. There was Robert W. Hughes, 
 with his strong judicial brain, just starting on his path 
 of distinction. There was Patrick Henry Aylett, a de- 
 scendant of the great orator, and a rising young lawyer. 
 There was Arthur Petticolas, who had an aesthetic 
 touch that gave his dissertations on Art a special 
 charm and value. The Examiner under Daniel was 
 a free lance: it made things lively for all sorts of 
 readers. 
 
 " Mr. Poe naturally found his way thereto as literary 
 editor. He had already attained celebrity as a writer 
 whose prose and poetry were unlike those of all other 
 persons. The reading public was watching him expect- 
 antly, looking for greater things. There was about him 
 something that drew especial notice. His face was one 
 of the saddest ever seen. His step was gentle, his voice 
 soft, yet clear; his presence altogether winning. Though 
 unlike in most particulars, Poe and Daniel affiliated in 
 
Ixxvlii MEMOIR 
 
 dealing with a world in which sin and folly on the one 
 hand provoked their wrath and scorn, and on the other 
 appealed to their pity and helpfulness. 
 
 "That Mr. Poe was battling with tragic threatenings 
 at this time, now seems pretty clear. The literary public 
 of Richmond knew enough of him to elicit a profound 
 interest in his behalf. They wished to express their 
 good will and invited him to deliver a lecture. The 
 whole transaction was unique and gave a touch of the 
 Old South. The lecture was delivered, and by special 
 request the lecturer then and there recited his own 
 poem, 'The Raven,' the remembrance of which is a 
 pleasure to one of his hearers — unto this day." 
 
 Judge Hughes and others of the Examiner have also 
 told of his work done in that office. He sent many of 
 his best known poems revised into the composing room, 
 where they were typeset for future use, but only "The 
 Raven" and "Dream-Land" appeared. The others, 
 however, were preserved in proof sheets and used by 
 F. W. Thomas, who was afterwards connected with the 
 Richmond Enquirer as Uterary editor, to prepare a new 
 edition of Poe's poems. These are now published for 
 the first time. 
 
 After his first lecture Poe went to Norfolk, Virginia. 
 Miss Susan Ingram in the New York Herald of February 
 19, 1905, tells of meeting him with a Virginia party at 
 Old Point Comfort, Sunday, September 9. She said: — 
 
 "That Sunday evening in early September at Old 
 Point stands out like a lovely picture. I cannot describe 
 it fitly. There was more in it than may be expressed in 
 mere words. There were several of us girls, all friends, 
 and all of us knew Mr. Poe. I can see just how we 
 looked, sitting about there in our white dresses. There 
 
MEMOIR Ixxix 
 
 was a young collegian, too, who was my particular 
 friend. He is gone long years since, and all the others 
 in that little group have passed away except Sister and 
 myself. 
 
 "Mr. Pbe sat there in that quiet way of his which 
 made you feel his presence. After a while my aunt, 
 who was nearer his age, said: 'This seems to be just the 
 time and place for poetry, Mr. Poe.' And it was. We 
 all felt it. The old Hygeia stood some distance from the 
 water, but with nothing between it and the ocean. It 
 was moonhght, and the hght shone over everything 
 with that undimmed light that it has in the South. 
 There were many persons on the long verandas that 
 surrounded the hotel, but they seemed remote and far 
 away. Our little party was absolutely cut off from 
 everything except that lovely view of the water shining 
 in the moonlight, and its gentle music borne to us on 
 the soft breeze. Poe felt the influence. How could a 
 poet help it? And when we. seconded the request that 
 he recite for us he agreed readily. He recited 'The 
 Raven,' 'Annabel Lee,' and last of all 'Ulalume,' with 
 the last stanza of which he remarked that he feared it 
 might not be intelligible to us, as it was scarcely clear 
 to himself, and for that reason it had not been pub- 
 hshed (sic). The next day he sent a copy of the poem 
 with a letter. 
 
 " We went from Old Point Comfort to our home near 
 Norfolk, and he called on us there, and again I had the 
 pleasure of talking with him. Although I was only a 
 slip of a girl and he what then seemed to me quite an 
 old man, and a great literary one at that, we got on 
 together beautifully. He was one of the most courteous 
 gentlemen I have ever seen, and that gave a great 
 
IxXX MEMOIR 
 
 charm to his manner. None of his pictures that I have 
 ever seen look like the picture of Poe that I keep in my 
 memory. Of course they look like him, so that any one 
 seeing them could have recognized him from them, but 
 there was something in his face that is in none of them. 
 Perhaps it was in the eyes, perhaps in the mouth. I do 
 not know, but any one who ever met him would imder- 
 stand what I mean. 
 
 "There were no indications of dissipation apparent 
 when we saw Poe in Virginia at that time. I think he 
 had not been drinking for a long time. If I had not 
 heard or read what had been said about his intem- 
 perance I should never have had any idea of it from 
 what I saw in Poe. To me he seemed a good man, as 
 well as a charming one, very sensitive and very high- 
 minded. 
 
 "I remember one little incident that illustrates how 
 loyal he was to the memory of those who had been kind 
 to him. I was fond of orris root, and always had the 
 odor of it about my clothes. One day when we were 
 walking together he spoke of it. 'I like it, too,' he said. 
 ' Do you know what it makes me think of ? My adopted 
 mother. Whenever the bureau drawers in her room 
 were opened there came from them a whiff of orris root, 
 and ever since when I smell it I go back to the time 
 when I was a httle boy, and it brings back thoughts of 
 my mother.' " 
 
 Poe lectured in the Norfolk Academy on the "Poetic 
 Principle" Friday, September 14, and it was noticed 
 in the American Beacon of that city. He returned to 
 Richmond, where he lectured again on the same subject 
 September 24, which was his last public appearance. 
 During this visit Poe made many social calls, often in 
 
MEMOIR Ixxxi 
 
 the company of his sister Rosalie, who still resided in 
 Richmond. He visited the Bernards, relatives of Whfte 
 of the Messenger; the Strobias, who were old church 
 friends of the first Mrs. Allan as well as the Poitiaux 
 family. His child- love Miss Poitiaux was alive, and 
 she has left her statement of this last visit. She pub- 
 Ushed some lines on the death of Poe in Richmond in 
 August, 1852, with the following introduction : — 
 
 "The writer of these lines was in early Ufe a playmate 
 of the unfortunate Edgar A. Poe, and the god-daughter 
 of the lady by whom he was adopted. He even then gave 
 promise of the talent which has since made his name 
 one long to be remembered as a writer — I will not say 
 unequaled, but not surpassed by any poet of his time. 
 Some few weeks preceding his sorrowful demise he 
 visited our city and read before the public his 'Raven,' 
 and others of his own and Hood's beautiful verses. I 
 was at that time too unwell to venture out, and did not 
 hear him, but a few days afterwards he called on me. 
 His unfortunate propensity had made us refuse to see 
 him on a former occasion, but this time he unexpectedly 
 entered the room in which I was sitting, saying as I 
 rose to meet him: 'Old friend, you see I would not 
 be denied.' He only stayed a few minutes, but in that 
 short time left an impression on my memory which has 
 never since been effaced. He was to be married in a 
 few weeks to a lady of our city, and as he stood upon 
 the steps bidding me farewell, I asked, alluding to his 
 marriage, when I should see him again. It was no fancy, 
 but a strange reality, that a gray shadow such as I had 
 never seen before, save on the face of the dying, passed 
 across his as, gazing gravely in mine, he answered 
 slowly: 'In the words of my Raven, perhaps — never- 
 
Ixxxii MEMOIR 
 
 more,' and in a moment he had gone. In a few weeks 
 I heard the tidings of his death." 
 
 Poe also made a visit to his dear friend, as he called 
 Eliza Lambert, the sister of General Lambert, once 
 Mayor of Richmond and a near relation of the Strobias. 
 There were other friends of his early days there, and, 
 as he wrote in one of his last letters to Mrs. Clemm, he 
 remained until one o'clock in the morning, talking of 
 the olden times. He also visited the family of W. A. R. 
 Nye, connected with the Whig, who were friends of long 
 standing. Much more of his time was spent with Mrs. 
 Shelton, his early love, to whom he was again engaged 
 to be married. She was seen with him at church and 
 at his lectures, and he wrote to Mrs. Clemm that all 
 was in readiness for the marriage. In the same letter 
 he showed distress of mind about "Annie" and wished 
 to be near her. Mrs. Shelton has left her recollections 
 of Poe, which are supposed to be in the Valentine 
 Museum, Richmond. They are not thought to diSer 
 materially from her other statements. She gave a 
 pleasing description of Poe in his youthful days calling 
 to see her in company with Burling, and how he met 
 and begged her to marry hiTn in 1849. He visited her 
 the night before he left Richmond for Baltimore, when 
 he complained of feeling ill. Richmond's oldest book- 
 dealer, J. W. Randolph, remembered Poe. He told me 
 that in those days he had Sanxey's old book-stand. 
 Poe was a good customer of Sanxey's in olden times. 
 He had been coming in quietly and looking about 
 Randolph's shop, and now and then bu3ang a magazine. 
 "Look here," he said one day; "it makes me sad to 
 come in here and not see Sanxey. When did he die ? " 
 Randolph explained that Sanxey was not dead, but 
 
MEMOIR Ixxxiii 
 
 had sold out. Poe went to hunt him up, and returning 
 to the store a few days afterwards, told of a pleasant 
 meeting with his former old book friend. 
 
 In order to wind up his affairs before his marriage, 
 arranged for October 17, he made preparations to visit 
 the North. He had a commission to edit a volume of 
 poems in Philadelphia, and told Daniel that he would 
 publish his own writings while away. After leaving 
 Mrs. Shelton's on the evening of September 26, he 
 went to Sadler's restaurant, where he met J. M. Blakey 
 and other friends. Both Sadler and Blakey told Judge 
 Hughes that they remembered meeting Poe at the res- 
 taurant that night, and did not think that he was drink- 
 ing. They were quite certain that he was sober when 
 they saw him last, and talking of going North. He 
 left for Baltimore and Philadelphia early the follow- 
 ing morning. As he steamed down the James River 
 thoughts of his former journey more than twenty-two 
 years before must have flashed across his memory, as 
 well as the many other strange vicissitudes through 
 which he had passed since his boyhood swims in the 
 same waters. 
 
 He had been wandering about Baltimore for some 
 days when he was found, Wednesday, October 3, in an 
 unconscious condition, near Ryan's Fourth Ward Polls. 
 He was taken to the Washington Hospital, where he 
 died October 7, 1849. 
 
 A notice of Poe's death was printed in the Richmond 
 Whig of October 9, as follows: " It is with profound 
 grief that we give place this morning to the painful 
 intelligence which will be read below. The sad an- 
 nouncement was received m yesterday's evening mail. 
 When we reflect that it was but the other day that the 
 
Ixxxiv MEMOIR 
 
 deceased was delighting our citizens with a lecture as 
 beautiful as his own genius was powerful and erratic — 
 that he was walking in our streets in the vigor of man- 
 hood and mingling with acquaintances in the sociability 
 of friendship — we would fain believe that it was un- 
 true. The news of the death of Mr. Poe will fall with a 
 heavy and crushing weight upon one in this city who 
 is related to him by the tender tie of sister; and who 
 can hardly have any previous knowledge of his illness; 
 whilst it will be read with profound regret by all who 
 appreciate generous qualities or admire genius. In the 
 beautiful language of his own 'Lenore,' let there be a 
 requiem for the dead — in that he died so young." 
 
 Poe was buried in the churchyard of the Westminster 
 Church at Baltimore. Rev. W. T. D. Clemm read the 
 services of the Methodist Episcopal Church. There 
 were but few friends and relatives present at the sad 
 rites. After his death, "Annabel Lee" was pubhshed 
 in the New York Tribune, and Sartain's Union Magazine 
 for November contained "The Bells." The Messenger 
 for December contained "To my Mother"; Graham's, 
 January, 1850, "Critics and Criticism"; followed in 
 October by the "Poetic Pruiciple," published in Sar- 
 tain's Union Magazine. In the Examiner of October 26, 
 Daniel announced: "Edgar Poe's complete works are to 
 be published under the supervision of Willis and Lowell 
 and under the auspices of Rufus Griswold. O ! what a 
 triumvirate." The November Messenger published a 
 notice of Poe's death, in which the following letter to 
 Thompson from H. W. Longfellow was given: — 
 
 "What a melancholy death is that of Mr. Poe — a 
 man so richly endowed with genius ! I never knew him 
 personally, but have always entertained a high appre- 
 
MEMOIR IXXXV 
 
 ciation of his powers as a prose writer and a poet. His 
 prose is remarkably vigorous, direct and yet affluent; 
 and his verse has a peculiar charm of melody, an atmos- 
 phere of true poetry about it, which is very winning. 
 The harshness of his criticisms I have never attributed 
 to anything but the irritation of a sensitive nature, 
 chafed by some indefinite sense of wrong." 
 
 Mrs. Clemm died in Baltimore at the Church Home, 
 February i6, 1871. This was the same building in which 
 Poe died. She was buried beside Poe. Rosalie Poe also 
 became a subject for charity, and entered the Epiph- 
 any Church Home, Washington, where she died in July, 
 1874, at the age of sixty-four, which places her birth 
 in 1810. 
 
 All that was mortal of Poe rested in a neglected grave 
 in an obscure corner of the Baltimore Churchyard until 
 November 17, 1875, when a monument was erected. I 
 was present at the services of dedication, and remember 
 that it was a raw, chilly, and bleak November day. 
 Among those present who had known him best were 
 J. H. Hewitt, and his old schoolmaster, Professor 
 Clarke; also Drs. Brooks and Snodgrass. A number 
 of letters and poems were read. Among those who 
 sent tributes were Mallarmd, Swinburne, Hayne, Faw- 
 cett, Winter, John Neal, Mrs. Whitman, Saxe, Bryant, 
 Longfellow, Tennyson, Whittier, Lowell, Aldrich, and 
 Holmes. Swinburne wrote: "Widely as the fame of Poe 
 has already spread, and deeply as it is already rooted 
 in Europe, it is even now growing wider and striking 
 deeper as time advances; the surest presage that Time, 
 the eternal enemy of small and shallow reputations, 
 will prove in this case also the constant and trusty 
 friend and keeper of a poet's full-grown fame." 
 
IxXXVl MEMOIR 
 
 The following warm tribute was from 0. W. Holmes: 
 "No one, surely, needs a mausoleimi less than the poet. 
 
 'His monument shall be his gentle verse, 
 
 Which eyes not yet created shall o'erread; 
 And tongues to be, his being shall rehearse 
 When all the breathers of this world are dead.' 
 
 Yet we would not leave him without a stone to mark 
 the spot where the hands that 'waked to ecstasy the 
 living lyre' were laid in dust. He that can confer an 
 immortality which will outlast bronze and granite de- 
 serves this poor tribute, not for his sake so much as ours. 
 The hearts of all who reverence the inspiration of genius, 
 who can look tenderly upon the infirmities too often 
 attending it, who can feel for its misfortunes, will sym- 
 pathize with you as you gather around the resting-place 
 of all that was mortal of Edgar Allan Poe, and raise the 
 stone inscribed with one of the few names which will 
 outlive the graven record meant to perpetuate its 
 remembrance." 
 
THE RAVEN 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
DEDICATION TO THE EDITION 
 OF 1845 
 
 To THE Noblest of her Sex — 
 
 To the Author of 
 
 "The Drama of Exile" — 
 
 To Miss Elizabeth Barrett Barrett, 
 
 Of England, 
 
 I Dedicate this Volume, 
 
 With the most Enthusl^stic Admiration 
 
 And with the most Sincere Esteem. 
 
 E. A. P, 
 
PREFACE TO THE POEMS 
 Edition of 1845 
 
 These trifles are collected and republished chiefly 
 with a view to their redemption from the many improve- 
 ments to which they have been subjected while going 
 "the rounds of the press." I am naturally anjdous 
 that if what I have written is to circulate at all, it 
 should circulate as I wrote it. In defence of my own 
 taste, nevertheless, it is incumbent on me to say that 
 I think nothing in this volume of much value to the 
 public, or very creditable to myself. Events not to be 
 controlled have prevented me from making, at any 
 time, any serious effort in what, under happier circum- 
 stances, would have been the field of my choice. With 
 me poetry has been not a purpose, but a passion; and 
 the passions should be held in reverence; they must 
 not — they cannot at will be excited, with an eye to 
 the paltry compensations, or the more paltry commen- 
 dations, of mankind. 
 
 E. A. P. 
 
 Note. — In the J. Lorimer Graham copy, Poe struck out in the 
 third line after going "at random." He also transposed the sen- 
 tence, " If what I have written is to circulate at all, I am naturally 
 anxious that it should circulate as I wrote it," to read as above. 
 The word "upon" in the seventh line was changed to "on"; a 
 comma after " say " was erased, and a comma inserted after 
 "excited." 
 
POEMS 
 
 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 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. 
 
 " 'T is some visiter," I muttered, " tapping at my cham- 
 ber door — 
 
 Only this and nothing more." 
 
 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 
 
 borrow 
 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. 
 
8 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple 
 curtain 
 
 Thrilled me — filled me with fantastic terrors never 
 felt before; 
 
 So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood re- 
 peating 
 
 " 'T is some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber 
 door — 
 
 Some late visiter 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. 
 
 Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there won- 
 dering, fearing, 
 
 Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal 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?" 
 
THE RAVEN g 
 
 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 
 before. 
 
 " Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my win- 
 dow lattice; 
 
 Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery 
 explore — 
 
 Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery ex- 
 plore; — 
 
 'T is 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. 
 
 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, 
 
lO THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the 
 Nightly shore — 
 
 Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plu- 
 tonian 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 blessed with seeing bird above his cham- 
 ber door — 
 
 Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his 
 chamber door, 
 With such name as "Nevermore." 
 
 But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke 
 
 only 
 That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did 
 
 outpour. 
 Nothing farther 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 
 
THE RAVEN II 
 
 Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one bur- 
 den bore — 
 Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore 
 Of ' Never — nevermore.' " 
 
 But the Raven still beguiling my sad 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 link- 
 ing 
 
 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." 
 
 This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable express- 
 ing 
 
 To the fowl whose fiery ey^s 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 lamp-light 
 gloated o'er, 
 
 But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light 
 gloating o'er. 
 She shall press, ah, nevermore! 
 
 Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from 
 
 an unseen censer 
 Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted 
 
 floor. 
 "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee — by these 
 
 angels he hath sent thee 
 
12 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 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 evill— 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 im- 
 plore — 
 
 Is there — is there balm in Gilead? — tell me — tell 
 me, I implore!" 
 
 Quoth the Raven " Nevermore." 
 
 "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 of parting, bird or fiend!" I 
 
 shrieked, upstarting — 
 "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's 
 
 Plutonian shore! 
 
THE EAVEN 1 3 
 
 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, sHll is sit- 
 ting 
 
 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 lamp-liglit 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! 
 
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 sun-Ught lazily lay. 
 
 Now each visiter shall confess 
 
 The sad valley's restlessness. 
 
 Nothing there is motionless — 
 
 Nothing save the airs that brood 
 
 Over the magic solitude. 
 
 Ah, by no wind are stirred those trees 
 
 That palpitate like the chill seas 
 
 Aroimd the misty Hebrides! 
 
 Ah, by no wind those clouds are driven 
 
 That rustle through the unquiet Heaven 
 
 Uneasily, from mom till even. 
 
 Over the violets there that lie 
 
 In myriad tj^es 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 ofi their delicate stems 
 
 Perennial tears descend in gems. 
 
BRIDAL BALLAD / 
 
 The ring is on my hand, 
 
 And the wreath is on my brow; 
 Satins and jewels grand 
 Are all at my command. 
 
 And I am happy now. 
 
 And my lord he loves me wdl; 
 
 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. 
 
 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! — 
 Behold the golden token 
 
 That proves me happy now! 
 
 !^ 
 
 > 
 
l6 THE EAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Would God I could awaken! 
 
 For I dream I know not how. 
 And my soul is sorely shaken 
 Lest an evil step be taken, — 
 Lest the dead who is forsaken 
 
 May not be happy now. 
 
THE SLEEPER 
 
 At midnight, in the month of Jime, 
 I stand beneath the mystic moon. 
 An opiate vapor, dewy, dim. 
 Exhales from out her golden rim, 
 And, softly dripping, drop by drop, 
 Upon the quiet moimtain 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; 
 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! 
 
 Oh, 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, 
 That, o'er the floor and down the wall. 
 Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall! ' 
 
l8 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Oh, lady dear, hastthou no fear? 
 Why and what art thou dreaming here? 
 Sure thou art come o'er far-o£f 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 
 Forever with unopened eye. 
 While the pale sheeted ghosts go by I 
 
 y 
 
 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 hath 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 
 She ne'er shall force an echo more. 
 Thrilling to think, poor child of sin! 
 It was the dead who groaned within. 
 
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! 
 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! 
 P 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 hornfed moon. 
 
 The swift and silent lizard of the stones! 
 
20 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 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 gray 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 alll 
 "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. 
 "Not all our 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." 
 
LENORE 
 
 Ah, broken is the golden bowl! — the spirit flown for 
 
 everl 
 Let the bell toll! — a saintly soul floats on the Stygian 
 
 river: — 
 And, Guy De Vere, hast thou no tear? — weep now or 
 
 never more! 
 See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, 
 
 Lenore! 
 Come, let the burial rite be read — the funeral song be 
 
 sung! — 
 An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so 
 
 young — 
 A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so 
 
 young. 
 
 " Wretches ! ye loved her for her wealth and ye hated her 
 for her pride; ' 
 
 And, when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her — 
 that she died: — 
 
 How shall the ritual then be read — the requiem how be 
 sung 
 
 By you — by yours, the evil eye — by yours the slan- 
 derous tongue 
 
 That did to death the innocence that died and died so 
 young?" 
 
 Peccavimus: — yet rave not thus! but let a Sabbath 
 song 
 Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong! 
 
22 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 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 Ues, 
 The life upon her yellow hair, but not within her eyes — 
 The life still there upon her hair, the death upon her 
 eyes. 
 
 "Avaunt! — avaumt! to friends from fiends the in- 
 dignant ghost is riven — 
 From Hell unto a high estate within the utmost 
 
 Heaven — 
 From moan and groan to a golden throne beside the 
 
 King of Heaven: — 
 Let no bell toll, then, lest her soul, amid its hallowed 
 
 mirth, 
 Should catch the note as it doth float up from the 
 
 damned Earth! 
 And I — to-night my heart is light: — no dirge will I 
 
 upraise, 
 But waft the angel on her flight with a paean of old 
 
 days!" 
 
HYMN 
 
 At morn — at noon — at twilight dim - 
 Maria! thou hast heard my hymn! 
 In joy and wo — 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! 
 
ISRAFEL » 
 
 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, 
 
 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 — 
 Where Love's a grown-up god — 
 
 ' And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who 
 has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures. — Koran. 
 
ISRAFEL 
 
 Where the Houri glances are 
 Imbued with all the beauty 
 
 Which we worship in a star. 
 
 Therefore, thou art not wrong, 
 
 Israf eli, 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 fervor of thy lute — 
 Well may the stars be mute! 
 
 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. 
 
 25 
 
DREAM-LAND 
 
 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 Avild weird clime that lieth, sublime, 
 V 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 dews that drip all over; 
 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, — 
 
DREAM-LAND 27 
 
 By the grey woods, — by the swamp 
 Where the toad and the newt encamp, — 
 By the dismal tarns and pools 
 
 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 
 'T is a peaceful, soothing region — 
 For the spirit that walks in shadow 
 O! it is 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; 
 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. 
 
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 morel 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, 
 hyacinthine isle! O purple Zante! 
 
 "Isola d'oro! Fior di Levante!" 
 
-^ THE CITY IN THE SEA 
 
 Lol 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; 
 Sut 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^ 
 
30 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 While from a proud tower in the town 
 
 Death looks gigantically down. 
 
 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 gayly-jeweled 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 — 
 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. 
 
^0 ONE IN PARADISE 
 
 Thou wast that all 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! 
 
 A voice from out the Future cries, 
 "On! on!" — but o'er the Past 
 
 (Dim gulf!) my spirit hovering lies 
 Mutej 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 ' 
 Are where thy grey eye glances, 
 
 And where thy footstep gleams — 
 In what ethereal dances. 
 
 By what eternal streams. 
 
^ 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 vapor can make 
 With the moon-tints of purple and pearl, 
 Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded 
 
 curl — 
 Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most hum- 
 ble 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, 
 Astart6 within the sky. 
 While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye — 
 While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye 
 
TO F s S. d 
 
 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. 
 
TO F 
 
 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 
 
 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. 
 
y. 
 
 SONNET — SILENCE 
 
 There aire 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!) 
 
 Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf. 
 That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod 
 No foot of man,) commend thyself to God! 
 
THE CONQUEROR WORM 
 
 Lo! 't is a gala night 
 
 Within the lonesome latter years! 
 An angel throng, bevdnged, 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 
 At bidding of vast formless things 
 
 That shift the scenery to and fro, 
 Flapping from out their Condor wings 
 
 Invisible wo! 
 
 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 retumeth 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! 
 
THE CONQUEROR WORM 37 
 
 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. 
 
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, 
 (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 odor went away. 
 
 Wanderers in that happy valley, 
 
 Through two Imninous windows, saw 
 Spirits moving musically. 
 
 To a lute's well-tunM law. 
 Round about a throne where, sitting, 
 
 Porphyrogene, 
 In state his glory well befitting. 
 
 The ruler of the realm was seen. 
 
 And all with pearl and ruby glowing 
 Was the fair palace door. 
 
THE HAUNTED PALACE 39 
 
 Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, ^ 
 And sparkling evermore, > 
 
 A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty j-* 
 
 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. 
 
 And travellers, now, within that valley. 
 
 Through the encrimson'd 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 forever 
 
 And laugh — but smile no more. 
 
SCENES FROM "POLITIAN" 
 
 AN UNPUBLISHED DRAMA 
 
 I 
 
 Rome. — A Hall in a Palace. Alessandra and Castiglione. 
 
 Alessandra. Thou art sad, Castiglione. 
 ' Castiglione. Sad! — not I. 
 Oh, I 'm the happiest, happiest man in Rome! 
 A few days more, thou knowest, my Alessandra, 
 Will make thee mine. Oh, I am very happy! 
 Aless. Methinks thou hast a singular way of show- 
 ing 
 Thy happiness! — what ails thee, cousin of mine? 
 Why didst thou sigh so deeply? 
 
 Cas. Did I sigh? 
 I was not conscious of it. It is a fashion, 
 A silly — a most silly fashion I have 
 When I am very happy. Did I sigh? {sighing.) 
 Aless. Thou didst. Thou art not well. Thou hast 
 indulged 
 Too much of late, and I am vexed to see it. 
 Late hours and wine, Castiglione, — these 
 Will ruin thee! thou art already altered — 
 Thy looks are haggard — nothing so wears away 
 The constitution as late hours and wine. 
 Cas. (mttsing.) Nothing, fair cousin, nothing — not 
 even deep sorrow — 
 ^ Wears it away like evil hours and wine. 
 I will amend. 
 
SCENES FROM " POLITIAN " 4 1 
 
 Aless. Doit! I would have thee drop 
 Thy riotous company, too — fellows low bom — 
 111 suit the like with old Di Broglio's heir 
 And Alessandra's husband. 
 
 Cos. I will drop them. 
 
 Aless. Thou wilt — thou must. Attend thou also 
 more 
 To thy dress and equipage — they are over plain 
 For thy lofty rank and fashion — much depends ~ > 
 Upon appearances. 
 
 Cas. I '11 see to it. 
 
 Aless. Then see to it! — pay more attention, sir, 
 To a becoming carriage — much thou wantest 
 In dignity. 
 
 Cas. Much, much, oh much I want 
 In proper dignity. 
 
 Aless. {haughtily.) Thou mockest me, sir! 
 
 Cas. (abstractedly.) Sweet, gentle Lalage! 
 
 Aless. Heard I aright? 
 I speak to him — he speaks of Lalage! 
 Sir Count! (places her hand on his shoulder) what art 
 
 thou dreaming? he 's not well! 
 What ails thee, sir? 
 
 Cas. (starting.) Cousin! fair cousin! — madam! 
 I crave thy pardon — indeed I am not well — 
 Your hand from off my shoulder, if you please. 
 This air is most oppressive! — Madam— the Duke! 
 
 Enter Di Broglio. 
 
 Di Broglio. My son, I 've news for thee! — hey? — 
 what 's the matter? (observing Alessandra.) 
 r the pouts? Kiss her, Castiglione! kiss her. 
 You dog! and make it up, I say, this minute! 
 
42 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 I 've news for you both. Politian is expected 
 Hourly in Rome — Politian, Earl of Leicester! 
 We '11 have him at the wedding. 'T is his first visit 
 To the imperial city. 
 
 Aless. What! Politian 
 Of Britain, Eari of Leicester? 
 
 Di Brog. The same, my love. 
 We '11 have him at the wedding. A man quite young 
 In years, but grey in fame. I have not seen him. 
 But Rumour speaks of him as of a prodigy 
 Pre-eminent in arts and arms, and wealth, 
 And high descent. We '11 have him at the wedding. 
 
 Aless. I have heard much of this Politian. 
 Gay, volatile and giddy — is he not? 
 And little given to thinking. 
 
 Di Brog. Far from it, love. 
 No branch, they say, of all philosophy 
 So deep abstruse he has not mastered it. 
 Learned as few are learned. 
 
 Aless. 'T is very strange! 
 I have known men have seen Politian 
 And sought his company. They speak of him 
 As of one who entered madly into life. 
 Drinking the cup of pleasure to the dregs. 
 
 Cos. Ridiculous! Now / have seen Politian 
 And know him well — nor learned nor mirthful he. 
 He is a dreamer and a man shut out 
 From common passions. 
 
 Di Brog. Children, we disagree. 
 Let us go forth and taste the fragrant air 
 Of the garden. Did I dream, or did I hear 
 Politian was a melancholy man? {exeunt.) 
 
SCENES FROM " POLITIAN " 43 
 
 II 
 
 A Lady'^ apartment, with a window open and looking into a 
 garden. Lalage, in deep mourning, reading at a table on which 
 lie some books and a hand mirror. In the back ground Jacinta 
 (a servant maid) leans carelessly upon a chair. 
 
 Lalage. Jacinta! is it thou? 
 Jacinta. {pertly.) Yes, Ma'am, I 'm here. 
 Lai. I did not know, Jacinta, you were in waiting. 
 Sit down ! — let not my presence trouble you — 
 Sit down! — for I am humble, most humble. 
 Jac. (aside.) 'T is time. 
 
 (Jacinta seats herself in a side-long manner upon 
 the chair, resting her elbows upon the hack, and 
 regarding her mistress with a contemptuous look. 
 Lalage continues to read.) 
 Lai. "It in another climate, so he said, 
 "Bore a bright golden flower, but not i' this soil!" 
 (pauses — turns over some leaves, and resumes.) 
 "No lingering winters there, nor snow, nor shower — 
 "But Ocean ever to refresh mankind 
 "Breathes the shrill spirit of the western wind." 
 Oh, beautiful! — most beautiful! — how like 
 To what my fevered soul doth dream of Heaven ! 
 happy land! (pauses.) She died! — the maiden died! 
 O still more happy maiden who couldst die! 
 Jacinta! 
 
 (Jacinta returns no answer, and Lalage presently re- 
 sumes.) 
 Again ! — a similar tale 
 Told of a beauteous dame beyond the sea! 
 Thusspeaketh one Ferdinand in the words of the play— 
 "She died full young" — one Bossola answers him — 
 
44 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 "I think not so — her infelicity 
 
 "Seemed to have years too many" — Ah luckless lady! 
 
 Jacinta! {still no answer.) 
 
 Here 's a far sterner story 
 But like — oh, very like in its despair — 
 Of that Egyptian queen, winning so easily 
 A thousand hearts — losing at length her own. 
 She died. Thus endeth the history — and her maids 
 Lean over her and weep — two gentle maids 
 With gentle names — Eiros and Charmion! 
 Rainbow and Dove! Jacinta! 
 
 Jac. {pettishly.) Madam, what is it? 
 
 Lai. Wilt thou, my good Jacinta, be so kind 
 As go down in the library and bring me 
 The Holy Evangelists. 
 
 Jac. Pshaw! {exit.) 
 
 Lai. If there be balm 
 For the wounded spirit in Gilead it is there! 
 Dew in the night time of my bitter trouble 
 Will there be found — "dew sweeter far than that 
 Which hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon Hill." 
 
 {re-enter Jacinta, and throws a volume on the table.) 
 There, ma'am, 's the book. Indeed she is very trouble- 
 some, {aside.) 
 
 Lai. {astonished.) What didst thou say, Jacinta? 
 Have I done aught 
 To grieve thee or to vex thee? — I am sorry. 
 For thou hast served me long and ever been 
 Trust-worthy and respectful, {resumes her reading.) 
 
 Jac. I can't believe 
 She has any more jewels — no — no — she gave me 
 all. {aside.) 
 
 Lai. What didst thou say, Jacinta? Now I bethink me 
 
SCENES FROM POLITIAN 45 
 
 Thou hast not spoken lately of thy wedding. 
 How fares good Ugo? — and when is it to be? 
 Can I do aught? — is there no farther aid 
 Thou needest, Jacinta? 
 
 Jac. Is there no farther aid! 
 That 's meant for me. {aside) I'm sure, Madam; you 
 
 need not 
 Be always throwing those jewels in my teeth. 
 
 Lai. Jewels! Jacinta, — now indeed, Jacinta, 
 I thought not of the jewels. 
 
 Jac. Oh! perhaps not! 
 But then I might have sworn it. After all, 
 There 's Ugo says the ring is only paste, 
 For he 's sure the Count Castiglione never 
 Would have given a real diamond to such as you; 
 And at the best I 'ra certain. Madam, you cannot 
 Have use for jewels now. But I might have sworn it. 
 
 {exit.) 
 {Lalage hursts into tears and leans her head upon 
 the table — after a short pause raises it.) 
 
 Lai. Poor Lalage! — and is it come to this? 
 Thy servant maid! — but courage! — 't is but a viper 
 Whom thou hast cherished to sting thee to the soul ! 
 
 {taking up the mirror. 
 Ha! here at least 's a friend — too much a friend 
 In earlier days — a friend will not deceive thee. 
 Fair mirror and true! now tell me (for thou canst) 
 A tale — a pretty tale — and heed thou not 
 Though it be rife with woe. It answers me. 
 It speaks of sunken eyes, and wasted cheeks. 
 And Beauty long deceased — remembers me 
 Of Joy departed — Hope, the Seraph Hope, 
 Inurned and entombed! — now, in a tone 
 
46 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Low, sad, and solemn, but most audible, 
 
 Whispers of early grave untimely yawning 
 
 For ruined maid. Fair mirror and true 1 — thou liest not ! 
 
 Thou hast no end to gain — no heart to break — 
 
 Castiglione lied who said he loved 
 
 Thou true — he false! — false! — false! 
 
 {while she speaks, a monk enters her apartment, 
 and approaches unobserved.) 
 
 Monk. Refuge thou hast, 
 Sweet daughter! in Heaven. Think of eternal things! 
 Give up thy soul to penitence, and pray! 
 
 Lai. {arising hurriedly.) I cannot pray! — My soul 
 is at war with God! 
 The frightful sounds of merriment below 
 Disturb my senses — go! I cannot pray — 
 The sweet airs from the garden worry me! 
 Thy presence grieves me — go! — thy priestly raiment 
 Fills me with dread — thy ebony crucifix 
 With horror and awe! 
 
 Monk. Think of thy precious soul! 
 
 Lai. Think of my early days! — think of my father 
 And mother in Heaven! think of our quiet home, 
 And the rivulet that ran before the door! 
 Think of my little sisters! — think of them! 
 And think of me! — think of my trusting love 
 And confidence — his vows — my ruin — think — 
 think 
 
 Of my unspeakable misery! begone! 
 
 Yet stay! yet stay! — what was it thou saidst of prayer 
 And penitence? Didst thou not speak of faith 
 And vows before the throne? 
 
 Monk. I did. 
 
 Lai. 'T is well. 
 
SCENES FROM " POLITIAN " 47 
 
 There is a vow were fitting should be made — 
 A sacred vow, imperative, and urgent, 
 A solemn vow ! 
 
 Monk. Daughter, this zeal is well! 
 
 Lai. Father, this zeal is anything but well! 
 Hast thou a crucifix fit for this thing? 
 A crucifix whereon to register 
 This sacred vow? (he hands her his own.) 
 Not that — Oh! no! — no! — no! (shtiddering.) 
 Not that! Not that! — I tell thee, holy man. 
 Thy raiments and thy ebony cross affright me ! 
 Stand back! I have a crucifix myself, — 
 / have a crucifix! Methinks 't were fitting 
 The deed — the vow — the symbol of the deed — 
 And the deed's register should tally, father! 
 
 (draws a cross-handled dagger and raises it on high.) 
 Behold the cross wherewith a vow like mine 
 Is written in Heaven! 
 
 Monk. Thy words are madness, daughter, 
 And speak a puipose unholy — thy lips are livid — 
 Thine eyes are wild — tempt not the wrath divine! 
 Pause ere too late ! — oh be not — be not rash! 
 Swear not the oath — oh swear it not! 
 
 Lai. 'T is sworn! 
 
 Ill 
 
 An apartment in a palace. Folitian and Baldazzar. 
 
 Baldazzar. Arouse thee now, Politian! 
 
 Thou must not — nay indeed, indeed, thou shalt not 
 Give way unto these humours. Be thyself! 
 Shake off the idle fancies that beset thee, 
 And live, for now thou diest! 
 
48 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 PoUiian. Not so, Baldazzar! 
 Surely I live. 
 
 Bal. Politian, it doth grieve me 
 To see thee thus. 
 
 Pol. Baldazzar, it doth grieve me 
 To give thee cause for grief, my honoured friend. 
 Command me, sir! what wouldst thou have me do? 
 At thy behest I will shake off that nature 
 Which from my forefathers I did inherit. 
 Which with my mother's milk I did imbibe, 
 And be no more Politian, but some other. 
 Command me, sir! 
 
 Bal. To the field then — to the field — 
 To the senate or the field. 
 
 Pol. Alas! alas! 
 There is an imp would follow me even there! 
 There is an imp hath followed me even there! 
 There is what voice was that? 
 
 Bal. I heard it not. 
 I heard not any voice except thine own, 
 And the echo of thine own. 
 
 Pol. Then I but dreamed. 
 
 Bal. Give not thy soul to dreams: the camp — ^the court 
 Befit thee — Fame awaits thee — Glory calls — 
 And her the trumpet-tongued thou wilt not hear 
 In hearkening to imaginary sounds 
 And phantom voices. 
 
 Pol. It is a phantom voice! 
 Didst thou not hear it then? 
 
 Bal. I heard it not. 
 
 Pol. Thou heard.st it not! Baldazzar, speak no 
 
 more 
 To me, Politian, of thy camps and courts. 
 
SCENES FROM POLITIAN 49 
 
 Oh! I am sick, sick, sick, even unto death. 
 
 Of the hollow and high-sounding vanities 
 
 Of the populous Earth! Bear with me yet awhile! 
 
 We have been boys together — school-fellows — 
 
 And now are friends — yet shall not be so long — 
 
 For in the eternal city thou shalt do me 
 
 A kind and gentle office, and a Power — 
 
 A Power august, benignant and supreme — 
 
 Shall then absolve thee of all farther duties 
 
 Unto thy friend. 
 
 Bal. Thou speakest a fearful riddle 
 I will not understand. 
 
 Pol. Yet now as Fate 
 Approaches, and the Hours are breathing low, 
 The sands of Time are changed to golden grains, 
 And dazzle me, Baldazzar. Alas! alas! 
 I cannot die, having within my heart 
 So keen a relish for the beautiful 
 As hath been kindled within it. Methinks the air 
 Is balmier now than it was wont to be — 
 Rich melodies are floating in the winds — 
 A rarer loveliness bedecks the earth — 
 And with a holier lustre the quiet moon 
 Sitteth in Heaven. — Hist! hist! thou canst not say 
 Thou hearest not now, Baldazzar? 
 
 Bal. Indeed I hear not. 
 
 Pol. Not hear it! — listen now — listen! — the faint- 
 est sound 
 And yet the sweetest that ear ever heard! 
 A lady's voice! — and sorrow in the tone! 
 Baldazzar, it oppresses me like a spell! 
 Again! — again! — how solemnly it falls 
 Into my heart of hearts! that eloquent voice 
 
50 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Surely I never heard — yet it were well 
 Had I but heard it with its thrilling tones 
 In earlier days! 
 
 Bal. I myself hear it now. 
 Be still! — the voice, if I mistake not greatly, 
 Proceeds from yonder lattice — which you may see 
 Very plainly through the window — it belongs, 
 Does it not? unto this palace of the Duke. 
 The singer is undoubtedly beneath 
 The roof of his Excellency — and perhaps 
 Is even that Alessandra of whom he spoke 
 As the betrothed of Castiglione, 
 His son and heir. 
 Pol. Be still! — it comes again! 
 
 Voice "And is thy heart so strong 
 {very faintly.) As for to leave me thus 
 
 Who hath loved thee so long 
 In wealth and wo among? 
 And is thy heart so strong 
 As for to leave me thus? 
 
 Say nay — say nay!" 
 Bal. The song is English, and I oft have heard it 
 In merry England — never so plaintively — 
 Hist! hist! it comes again! 
 
 Voice "Is it so strong 
 
 {more loudly.) As for to leave me thus 
 
 Who hath loved thee so long 
 In wealth and wo among? 
 And is thy heart so strong 
 As for to leave me thus? 
 
 Say nay — say nay!" 
 Bal. 'T is hushed and all is still! 
 Pol. All is not still. 
 
SCENES FROM POLITIAN 51 
 
 Bal. Let us go down. 
 
 Pol. Go down, Baldazzar, go! 
 
 Bal. The hour is growing late — the Duke awaits us, — 
 Thy presence is expected in the hall 
 Below. What ails thee. Earl Politian? 
 
 Voice "Who hath loved thee so long, 
 (distinctly.) In wealth and wo among, 
 And is thy heart so strong? 
 Say nay — say nay ! " 
 
 Bai. Let us descend! — 't is time. Politian, give 
 These fancies to the wind. Remember, pray. 
 Your bearing lately savoured much of rudeness 
 Unto the Duke. Arouse thee! and remember! 
 
 Pol. Remember? I do. Lead on! I Jo remember. 
 
 (going.) 
 Let us descend. Believe me I would give. 
 Freely would give the broad lands of my earldom 
 To look upon the face hidden by yon lattice — 
 "To gaze upon that veiled face, and hear 
 Once more that silent tongue." 
 
 Bal. Let me beg you, sir. 
 Descend with me — the Duke may be offended. 
 Let us go down, I pray you. 
 
 (Voice loudly.) Say nay I — say nay I 
 
 Pol. (aside.) 'T is strange! — 't is very strange — 
 methought the voice 
 Chimed in with my desires and bade me stay! 
 
 (approaching the window.) 
 Sweet voice! I heed thee, and will surely stay. 
 Now be this Fancy, by Heaven, or be it Fate, 
 Still will I not descend. Baldazzar, make 
 Apology unto the Duke for me; 
 I go not down to-night. 
 
52 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Bal. Your lordship's pleasure 
 Shall be attended to. Good night, Politian. 
 Pol. Good night, my friend, good night. 
 
 IV 
 
 The gardens of a palace — Moonlight. Lalage and Politian. 
 
 Lalage. And dost thou speak of love 
 To me, Politian? — dost thou speak of love 
 To Lalage? — ah wo — ah wo is me! 
 This mockery is most cruel — most cruel indeed! 
 
 Politian. Weep not! oh, sob not thus! — thy bitter 
 tears 
 Will madden me. Oh mourn not, Lalage — 
 Be comforted! I know — I know it all. 
 And still I speak of love. Look at me, brightest, 
 And beautiful Lalage! — turn here thine eyes! 
 Thou askest me if I could speak of love, 
 Knowing what I know, and seeing what I have seen. 
 Thou askest me that — and thus I answer thee — 
 Thus on my bended knee I answer thee, {kneeling.) 
 Sweet Lalage, / love thee — love thee — love thee ; 
 Thro' good and ill — thro' weal and wo I love thee. 
 Not mother, with her first born on her knee, 
 Thrills with intenser love than I for thee. 
 Not on God's altar, in any time or chme, 
 Burned there a holier fire than burneth now 
 Within my spirit for thee. And do I love ? {arising.) 
 Even for thy woes I love thee — even for thy woes — 
 Thy beauty and thy woes. 
 
 Lai. Alas, proud Earl, 
 Thou dost forget thyself, remembering me! 
 
SCENES FROM " POLITIAN " 53 
 
 How, in thy father's halls, among the maidens 
 
 Pure and reproachless of thy princely line. 
 
 Could the dishonoured Lalage abide? 
 
 Thy wife, and with a tainted memory — 
 
 My seared and blighted name, how would it tally 
 
 With the ancestral honours of thy house, 
 
 And with thy glory? 
 
 Pol. Speak not to me of glory! 
 I hate — I loathe the name; I do abhor 
 The unsatisfactory and ideal thing. 
 Art thou not Lalage and I Politian? 
 Do I not love — art thou not beautiful — 
 What need we more? Ha! glory! — now speak not of it! 
 By all I hold most sacred and most solemn — 
 By all my wishes now — my fears hereafter — 
 By all I scorn on earth and hope in heaven — 
 There is no deed I would more glory in, 
 Than in thy cause to scoff at this same glory 
 And trample it under foot. What matters it — 
 What matters it, my fairest, and my best. 
 That we go down unhonoured and forgotten 
 Into the dust — so we descend together. 
 Descend together — and then — and then perchance — 
 
 Lai. Why dost thou pause, Politian? 
 
 Pol. And then perchance 
 Arise together, Lalage, and roam 
 The starry and quiet dwellings of the blest, 
 And still 
 
 Ld. Why dost thou pause, Politian? 
 
 Pol. And still together — together. 
 
 Ld. Now Earl of Leicester! 
 Thou lovest me, and in my heart of hearts 
 I feel thou lovest me truly. 
 
54 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Pol. Oh, Lalage! {throwing himself upon his knee.) 
 And lovest thou me? 
 
 Lai. Hist! hush! within the gloom 
 Of yonder trees methought a figure past — 
 A spectral figure, solemn, and slow, and noiseless — 
 Like the grim shadow Conscience, solemn and noiseless. 
 
 {walks across and returns.) 
 I was mistaken — 't was but a giant bough 
 Stirred by the autumn wind. Politian! 
 
 Pol. My Lalage — my love! why art thou moved? 
 Why dost thou turn so pale? Not Conscience' self, 
 Far less a shadow which thou likenest to it. 
 Should shake the firm spirit thus. But the night wind 
 Is chilly — and these melancholy boughs 
 Throw over all things a gloom. 
 
 Lai. Politian! 
 Thou speakest to me of love. Knowest thou the land 
 With which all tongues are busy — a land new found — 
 Miraculously found by one of Genoa — 
 A thousand leagues within the golden west ? 
 A fairy land of flowers, and fruit, and sunshine, 
 And crystal lakes, and over-arching forests. 
 And mountains, around whose towering summits the 
 
 winds 
 Of Heaven untrammelled flow — which air to breathe 
 Is Happiness now, and will be Freedom hereafter 
 In days that are to come? 
 
 Pol. O, wilt thou — wilt thou 
 Fly to that Paradise — my Lalage, wilt thou 
 Fly thither with me? There Care shall be forgotten, 
 And Sorrow shall be no more, and Eros be all. 
 And life shall then be mine, for I will live 
 For thee, and in thine eyes — and thou shalt be 
 
i( . 
 
 SCENES FROM " POLITIAN " 55 
 
 No more a mourner — but the radiant Joys 
 Shall wait upon thee, and the angel Hope 
 Attend thee ever ; and I will kneel to thee 
 And worship thee, and call thee my beloved, 
 My own, my beautiful, my love, my wife, 
 My all; — oh, wilt thou — wilt thou, Lalage, 
 Fly thither with me ? 
 
 Lai. A deed is to be done — 
 Castiglione lives! 
 
 Pol. And he shall die! {exit.) 
 
 Lai. {after a pause.) And — he — shall — die! 
 
 alas! 
 
 Castiglione die? Who spoke the words? 
 
 Where am I? — what was it he said? — Politian! 
 
 Thou art not gone — thou art not gone, Politian! 
 
 I feel thou art not gone — yet dare not look, 
 
 Lest I behold thee not; thou couldst not go 
 
 With those words upon thy lips — O, speak to me! 
 
 And let me hear thy voice — one word — one word. 
 
 To say thou art not gone, — one little sentence. 
 
 To say how thou dost scorn — how thou dost hate 
 
 My womanly weakness. Ha! ha! thou art not gone — 
 
 speak to me! I knew thou wouldst not go! 
 
 1 knew thou wouldst not, couldst not, durst not go. 
 Villain, thou art not gone — thou mockest me! 
 
 And thus I clutch thee — thus! He is gone, he is 
 
 gone — 
 Gone — gone. Where am I ? 't is well — 't is very 
 
 well! 
 So that the blade be keen — the blow be sure, 
 'T is well, 't is very well — alas! alas! {exit.) 
 
56 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 The suburbs. Politian alone. 
 
 Politian. This weakness grows upon me. I am faint, 
 And much I fear me ill — it will not do 
 To die ere I have lived! Stay — stay thy hand, 
 Azrael, yet awhile! — Prince of the Powers 
 Of Darkness and the Tomb, pity me! 
 pity me ! let me not perish now. 
 In the budding of my Paradisal Hope! 
 Give me to live yet — yet a little while: 
 'T is I who pray for life — I who so late 
 Demanded but to die! — what sayeth the Count? 
 
 Enter Baldazzar. 
 
 Bddazzar. That knowing no cause of quarrel or of 
 feud 
 Between the Earl Politian and himself. 
 He doth decline your cartel. 
 
 Pol. What didst thou say? 
 What answer was it you brought me, good Baldazzar? 
 With what excessive fragrance the zephyr comes 
 Laden from yonder bowers! — a fairer day. 
 Or one more worthy Italy, methinks 
 No mortal eyes have seen! — what said the Count? 
 
 Bal. That he, Castiglione, not being aware 
 Of any feud existing, or any cause 
 Of quarrel between your lordship and himself 
 Cannot accept the challenge. 
 
 Pol. It is most true — 
 All this is very true. 'When saw you, sir. 
 When saw you now, Baldazzar, in the frigid 
 Ungenial Britain which we left so lately, 
 
SCENES FROM " POUTIAN " 57 
 
 A heaven so calm as this — so utterly free 
 From the evil taint of clouds ? — and he did say? 
 
 Bal. No more, my lord, than I have told you, sir: 
 The Count Castiglione will not fight, 
 Having no cause for quarrel. 
 
 Pol. Now this is true — 
 All very true. Thou art my friend, Baldazzar, 
 And I have not forgotten it — thou 'It do me 
 A piece of service; wilt thou go back and say 
 Unto this man, that I, the Earl of Leicester, 
 Hold him a villain ? — thus much, I prythee, say 
 Unto the Count — it is exceeding just 
 He should have cause for quarrel. 
 
 Bal. My lord! — my friend! 
 
 Pol. {aside.) 'T is he — he comes himself! {aloud.) 
 thou reasonest well. 
 I know what thou wouldst say — not send the mes- 
 sage — 
 Well! — I will think of it — I will not send it. 
 Now prythee, leave me — hither doth come a person 
 With whom affairs of a most private nature 
 I would adjust. 
 
 Bal. I go — to-morrow we meet. 
 Do we not? — at the Vatican. 
 
 Pol. At the Vatican. {exit Bal.) 
 
 Enter Castiglione. 
 
 Cas. The Earl of Leicester here! 
 
 Pol. I am the Earl of Leicester, and thou seest. 
 Dost thou not? that I am here. 
 
 Cas. My lord, some strange. 
 Some singular mistake — misunderstanding — 
 Hath without doubt arisen: thou hast been urged 
 
58 THE RAVEN AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 Thereby, in heat of anger, to address 
 Some words' most unaccountable, in writing, 
 To me, Castiglione; the bearer being 
 Baldazzar, Duke of Surrey. I am aware 
 Of nothing which might warrant thee in this thing, 
 Having given thee no offence. Ha! — am I right? 
 'T was a mistake ? — undoubtedly — we all 
 Do err at times. 
 
 Pol. Draw, villain, and prate no more! 
 
 Cas. Ha! — draw? — and villain? have at thee then 
 at once. 
 Proud Earl! (draws.) 
 
 Pol. (drawing.) Thus to the expiatory tomb, 
 Untimely sepulchre, I do devote thee 
 In the name of Lalage! 
 
 Cas. (letting fall his sword and recoiling to the extremity 
 of the stage.) 
 Of Lalage! 
 
 Hold off — thy sacred hand! — avaunt I say! 
 Avaunt — I will not fight thee — indeed I dare not. 
 
 Pol. Thou wilt not fight with me didst say, Sir Count ? 
 Shall I be bafiBed thus? — now this is well; 
 Didst say thou darest not? Ha! 
 
 Cas. I dare not — dare not — 
 Hold ofi thy hand — with that beloved name 
 So fresh upon thy lips I will not fight thee — 
 I cannot — dare not. 
 
 Pol. Now by my halidom 
 I do believe thee! — coward, I do believe thee! 
 
 Cas. Ha! — coward! — this may not be! 
 
 (clutches his sword and staggers towards Politian, 
 but his purpose is changed before reaching him, 
 and he falls upon his knee at the feet of the Earl.) 
 
SCENES FROM POLITIAN " 59 
 
 Alas! my lord, 
 It is — it is — most true. In such a cause 
 I am the veriest coward. O pity me! 
 
 Pol. (^greatly softened.) Alas! — I do — indeed I pity 
 thee. 
 
 Cas. And Lalage 
 
 Pol. Scoundrel! — arise and die! 
 
 Cas. It needeth not be — thus — thus — let me 
 die 
 Thus on my bended knee. It were most fitting 
 That in this deep humiliation I perish. 
 For in the fight I will not raise a hand 
 Against thee, Earl of Leicester. Strike thou home — 
 
 (baring his bosom.) 
 Here is no let or hindrance to thy weapon — 
 Strike home. I will not fight thee. 
 
 Pol. Now 's Death and Hell! 
 Am I not — am I not sorely — grievously tempted 
 To take thee at thy word ? But mark me, sir! 
 Think not to fly me thus. Do thou prepare 
 For public insult in the streets — before 
 The eyes of the citizens. I '11 follow thee — 
 Like an avenging spirit I '11 follow thee 
 Even unto death. Before those whom thou lovest — 
 Before all Rome I '11 taunt thee, villain, — I '11 taunt 
 
 thee. 
 Dost hear? with cowardice — thou wilt not fight me? 
 Thou liest! thou sAo/</ (exit.) 
 
 Cas. Now this indeed is just! 
 Most righteous, and most just, avenging Heaven! 
 
LATER POEMS 
 
LATER POEMS 
 
 THE BELLS 
 
 Hear the sledges with the bells — 
 Silver bells! 
 What a world of merriment their melody foretells i 
 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 Rmiic rhyme, 
 To the tintinnabulation 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! 
 
64 LATER POEMS 
 
 Oh, from out the sounding cells, 
 
 What a gush of euphony voluminously wells! 
 
 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 1 
 
 lU 
 
 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! 
 Too much horrified to speak, 
 They can only shriek, shriek, 
 Out of time. 
 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! 
 
THE BELLS 65 
 
 How they clang, and dash, and roar! 
 What a horror they outpour 
 On the bosom of the palpitating air I 
 Yet the ear, it fully knows, 
 By the twanging, 
 And the clanging, 
 How the danger ebbs and flows; 
 Yes, 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 clamor and the clangor of the bells! 
 
 IV 
 
 Hear the tolling of the bells — 
 Iron bells! 
 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, 
 
66 LATER POEMS 
 
 And who, tolling, tolling, tolling, 
 
 In that muflBed 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: — 
 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, 
 
 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. 
 
TO M. L. S 
 
 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 
 
 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. 
 
./I 
 
 TO 
 
 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, 
 
 Unthought-like thoughts that are the souls of thoughtj 
 
 Richer, far wilder, far diviner visions 
 
 Than even the seraph harper, Israfel, 
 
 Who has "the sweetest voice of all God's creatures," 
 
 Could hope to utter. And I!jny 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 iiot 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 empmpled vapors, far away 
 
 To where the prospect terminates — thee only. 
 
SONNET » 
 
 "Seldom we find," says Solomon Don Dunce, 
 "Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet. 
 Thi^pugh all the flimsy things we see at once 
 As'fe^sily as through a Naples bonnet — 
 Trash of all trash! — how can a lady don it? 
 Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff — 
 Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff 
 
 Twirls into trunk-paper the while you con it." 
 And, veritably, Sol is right enough. 
 The general^Petrarchanities are arrant 
 Bubbles — ephemeral and so transparent — 
 
 But this is, now, — you may depend upon it — 
 Stable, opaque, immortal — all by dint 
 Of the dear names that lie concealed within 't. 
 
 ' The title in all other editions of Poe's poems is, "An 
 Enigma." 
 
TO » 
 
 I I SAW thee once — once only — years ago: 
 I must not say hcrw many — but not many. 
 It was a July midnight; and from out 
 A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring, 
 Sought a precipitant pathway up through heaven, 
 There fell a silvery-silken veil of light, 
 With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber, 
 Upon the uptum'd faces of a thousand 
 Roses that grew in an enchanted garden, 
 Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tip-toe — 
 Fell on the uptum'd faces of these roses 
 That gave out, in return for the love-light. 
 Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death — 
 Fell on the uptum'd faces of these 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 uptum'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, 
 
 * The title in all other editions of Poe's poems is, "To 
 Helen." 
 
TO 71 
 
 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' odors 
 
 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. 
 
 What wild heart-histories seemed to lie enwritten 
 
 Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres! 
 
 How dark a wo! 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. 
 Their office is to illumine and enkindle — 
 My duty to be saved by their bright light 
 And purified in their electric fire — 
 
72 LATER POEMS 
 
 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! 
 
A VALENTINE 
 To 
 
 For her these lines are penned, whose luminous eyes, 
 
 Brightly expressive as the twins of Loeda, 
 Shall find her own sweet name that, nestling, lies 
 
 Upon this page, enwrapped from every reader. 
 Search narrowly this rhyme, which holds a treasure 
 
 Divine — a talisman — an amulet 
 That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure; 
 
 The words — the letters themselves. Do not forget 
 The trivialest point, or you may lose your labor. 
 
 And yet there is in this no Gordian knot 
 Which one might not undo without a sabre. 
 
 If one could merely understand the plot. 
 Enwritten upon this page whereon are peering 
 
 Such eager eyes, there lies, I say, perdu, 
 A well-known name, oft uttered in the hearing 
 
 Of poets, by poets; as the name is a poet's, too. 
 Its letters, although naturally lying — 
 
 Like the knight Pinto (Mendez Ferdinando) — 
 Still form a synonym for truth. Cease trying! 
 
 You will not read the riddle though you do the best . 
 you can do. 
 
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. 
 
 And I rest so composedly 
 
 Now, in my bed. 
 That any beholder 
 
 Might fancy me dead — 
 Might start at beholding me. 
 
 Thinking me dead. 
 
 The moaning and groaning, 
 The sighing and sobbing. 
 
 Are quieted now, 
 
 With that horrible throbbing 
 
 At heart: — Ah that horrible. 
 Horrible throbbing! 
 
 The sickness — the nausea — 
 The pitiless pain — 
 
FOR ANNIE 75 
 
 Have ceased with the fever 
 
 , That maddened my brain — 
 With the fever called "Living" 
 That burned in my brain. 
 
 And oh! of all tortures 
 
 That torture the worst 
 Has abated — the terrible 
 
 Torture of thirst 
 For the napthaline river 
 
 Of Passion accurst: — 
 I have drank 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 — 
 From a cavern not very far 
 
 Down under ground. 
 
 But 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 — 
 
76 LATER POEMS 
 
 Its old agitations 
 
 Of myrtles and roses: 
 
 For now, while so quietly 
 
 Lying, it fancies 
 A holier odor 
 
 About it, of pansies — 
 A rosemary odor. 
 
 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, 
 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. 
 
FOR ANNIE 77 
 
 And I lie so composedly, 
 
 Now, in my bed, 
 (Knowing her love) 
 
 That you fancy me dead — 
 And I rest so contentedly, 
 
 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. 
 
SONNET — TO MY MOTHER 
 
 Because the angels in the Heavens above, 
 
 Devoutly singing unto one another, 
 Can find amid their burning terms of love, 
 
 None so devotional as that of "mother," 
 Therefore by that sweet name I long have called you; 
 
 You who are more than mother unto me, 
 Filhng my heart of hearts, where God 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 
 Are mother to the dead I loved so dearly. 
 
 Are thus more predous than the one I knew, 
 By that infinity with which my wife 
 
 Was dearer to my soul than its soul life. 
 
POE'S DESK 
 
 Used by him at office of the Southern Literary Messenger 
 
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 
 
 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, 
 
 Ride, boldly ride," 
 
 The shade replied, — 
 "If you seek for Eldorado'" 
 
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. 
 
 She was a child and 7 was a child, 
 
 In this kingdom by the sea. 
 But we loved with a love that wa^ more than love ■ 
 
 I and my Annabel Lee — 
 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, by night 
 
 Chilling my Annabel Lee; 
 So that her high-bom 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, 
 
 In this kingdom by the sea) 
 That the wind came out of the cloud, chilling 
 
 And killing my Annabel Lee, 
 
ANNABEL LEE 8 1 
 
 But our love it was stronger by fax 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 see the bright eyes 
 
 Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; 
 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. 
 
ULALUME — A BALLAD 
 
 The skies they were ashen and sober; 
 
 The leaves they were crisped and sere — 
 The leaves they were withering and sere: 
 
 ilt was night, in the lonesome October 
 Of my most immemorial year: 
 It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, 
 V^ 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 myCgoul^ 
 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 Moimt 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, ' 
 
 (Though once we had journeyed down here) 
 
ULALUME — A BALLAD 83 
 
 We 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 mom — 
 As the star-dials hinted of mom — 
 
 At the end of our path a liquescent 
 And nebulous lustre was bom, 
 
 Out of which a miraculous crescent 
 Arose with a duplicate horn — 
 
 Astarte's bediamonded crescent 
 
 Distinct with its duplicate hom. 
 
 And I said — "She is warmer than Dian; 
 
 She rolls through an ether of sighs — 
 
 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 — 
 
 Ah, hasten! — Ah, let us not linger! 
 
 Ah, fly! — let us fly! — for we must." 
 
 In terror she spoke, letting sink her 
 
 Wings till they trailed in the dust — 
 
84 LATER POEMS 
 
 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: j 
 
 Let us on by this tremulous light! 
 
 Let us bathe in this crystalline light! 
 Its Sybillic splendor is beaming 
 
 W ith Hop e 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 surely may trust to a gleaming, 
 
 That cannot but guide us aright. 
 
 Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night." 
 
 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 a 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 — Ulalxune! — 
 'T is 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 
 
 On this very night of last year 
 
 That I journeyed — I journeyed down here! — 
 
ULALUME — A BALLAD 85 
 
 That I brought a dread burden down here — 
 On this night of all nights in the year, 
 Ah! what demon hath 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." 
 
 Said we, then — the two, then — "Ah, can it 
 Have been that the woodlandish ghouls ^- 
 The pitiful, the Merciful ghouls — 
 
 To bar up our way and to ban it 
 
 From the secret that lies in these wolds — 
 From the thing that lies hidden in these wolds — 
 
 Have drawn up the spectre of a planet 
 From the limbo of lunary souls, 
 
 This sinfully scintillant planet 
 
 From the Hell of the planetary souls? " 
 
POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
Private reasons — some of which have reference to 
 the sin of plagiarism, and others to the date of Tenny- 
 son's first poems — have induced me, after some hesi- 
 tation, to re-publish these, the crude compositions of 
 my earliest boyhood. They are printed verbatim — with- 
 out alteration from the original edition — the date of 
 which is too remote to be judiciously acknowledged. 
 
 E. A. P. 
 
 Note by Poe, prefixed to " Poems Written in Youth " in the 
 Edition of 1843, 
 
POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 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 — Oh 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. 
 
 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 — 
 
 O craving heart, for the lost flowers 
 And sunshine of my summer hours! 
 The undying voice of that dead time, 
 With its interminable chime, 
 
QO POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 Rings, in the spirit of a spell, 
 Upon thy emptiness — a knell. 
 
 I have not always been as now: 
 The fever'd diadem on my brow 
 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 wingfed 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, 
 
 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 
 (0! how my spirit would rejoice, 
 And leap within me at the cry) 
 The battle-cry of Victory! 
 
TAMERLANE 9 1 
 
 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 — 
 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
92 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 O, she was worthy of all love! 
 Love — as in infancy was mine — 
 J 'T was such as angel minds above 
 
 Might envy; her yoimg heart the shrine 
 On which my every hope and thought 
 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, 
 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 tum'd 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 — 
 
TAMERLANE 93 
 
 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, 
 
 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 vapor of the dew 
 My own had past, did not the beam 
 
 Of beauty which did while it thro' 
 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 
 
94 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 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 
 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 chain'd 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 she not queen of Earth? her pride 
 Above all cities? in her hand 
 
 Their destinies? in all beside 
 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! 
 
TAMERLANE 95 
 
 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 
 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. 
 'T was sunset: when the sun will part 
 There comes a suUenness 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 harken) as one 
 Who, in a dream of night, would fly 
 But cannot from a danger nigh. 
 
 What tho' the moon — the white moon 
 Shed all the splendor 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 — 
 
96 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 1/ 
 
 For all we live to know is known 
 And all we seek to keep hath flown — 
 Let life, then, as the day-flower, fall 
 With the noon-day beauty — which is all. 
 
 I reach'd 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 — 
 O, I defy thee, Hell, to show 
 On beds of fire that bum below, 
 An humbler heart — a deeper wo. 
 
 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, 
 Whose pleasant bowers are yet so riven 
 Above with trellis'd rays from Heaven 
 No mote may shun — no tiniest fly — 
 
TAMERLANE 97 
 
 The light'ning 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? 
 
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? 
 
ROSALIE 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 — 
 
 0! 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 — 
 
 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. 
 
 'T was 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 splendor o'er th' unchained soul — 
 The soul that scarce (the billows are so dense) 
 Can struggle to its destin'd eminence — 
 
 * A star was discovered by Tycho Brahe which appeared sud- 
 denly in the heavens — attained, in a few days, a brilliancy sur- 
 passing that of Jupiter — then as suddenly disappeared, and has 
 never been seen since. 
 
100 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 To distant spheres, from time to time, she rode, 
 And late to ours, the favour'd one of God — 
 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 en hills Achaian, and there dwelt) 
 She look'd 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 color bound. 
 
 All hurriedly she knelt upon a bed 
 Of flowers: of lilies 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 — 
 
 t Of her who lov'd a mortal — and so died. 
 The Sephalica, budding with young bees, 
 Uprear'd its purple stem around her knees: 
 + And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam'd — 
 
 ♦ On Santa Maura — olim Deucadia. 
 t Sappho. 
 
 i This flower is much noticed by Lewenhoeck and Toumefort 
 The bee, feeding upon its blossom, becomes intoxicated. 
 
AL AARAAF 10 I 
 
 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, 
 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: 
 
 t 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: 
 
 * Clytia — The Chrysanthemum Peruvianum, or, to employ 
 a better-known term, the turnsol — which turns continually to- 
 wards the sun, covers itself, like Peru, the country from which it 
 comes, with dewy clouds which cool and refresh its flowers during 
 the most violent heat of the day. — B. de St. Pierre. 
 
 t There is cultivated in the king's garden at Paris, a species of ser- 
 pentine aloes without prickles, whose large and beautiful flower 
 exhales a strong odour of the vanilla, during the time of its expan- 
 sion, which is very short. It does not blow till towards the month 
 of July — you then perceive it gradually open its petals — expand 
 them — fade and die. — St. Pierre. 
 
102 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 * And Valisnerian lotus thither flown 
 
 From struggling with the waters of the Rhone: 
 
 t And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante! 
 
 Isola d'oro! — Fior di Levante! 
 
 t 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 odors, up to Heaven: 
 
 "Spirit! that 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 
 
 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 — 
 
 * There is found, in the Rhone, a beautiful lily of the Valisnerian 
 kind. Its stem will stretch to the length of three or four feet — 
 -^hus preserving its head above water in the swelUngs of the river. 
 
 t The Hyacinth. 
 
 t It is a fiction of the Indians, that Cupid was first seen floating 
 In one of these down the river Ganges — and that he still loves the 
 cradle of his childhood. 
 
 § And golden vials full of odors which are the prayers of the 
 saints. — Rev. St. John. 
 
AL AARAAF IO3 
 
 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, Oh, God! 
 
 The star hath ridden high 
 Thro' many a tempest, but she rode 
 
 Beneath thy burning eye; 
 And here, in thought, to thee — 
 
 In thought that can alone 
 
 * The Humanitarians held that God was to be understood as 
 having really a human form. — Vide Clarke's Sermons, vol. i, page 
 26, fol. edit. 
 
 The drift of Milton's argument, leads him to employ language 
 which would appear, at first sight, to verge upon their doctrine; 
 but it will be seen immediately, that he guards himself against the 
 charge of having adopted one of the most ignorant errors of the 
 dark ages of the church. — Dr. Sumner's Notes on Milton's Chris- 
 tian Doctrine. 
 
 This opinion, in spite of many testimonies to the contrary, could 
 never have been very general. Andeus, a Syrian of Mesopotamia, 
 was condemned for the opinion, as heretical. He lived in the be- 
 ginning of the fourth century. His disciples were called Anthropo- 
 morphites. — Vide Du Pin. 
 
 Among Milton's minor poems are these lines: — 
 
 Dicite sacrorum prsesides nemorum Dese, &c. 
 
 Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine 
 
 Natura solers finxit humanum genus ? 
 
 Eternus, incorruptus, lequsevus poIo» 
 
 Unusque et universus exemplar Dei. — And afterwardSi 
 
 Non cui profundum Ceecitas lumen dedit 
 
 Diicaus augur vidit hunc alto sinu, &c. 
 
104 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 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 
 
 Abash'd, amid the lilies there, to seek 
 
 A shelter from the fervour of His eye; 
 
 For the stars trembled at the Deity. 
 
 She stir'd not — breath'd not — for a voice was there 
 
 How solemnly pervading the calm air! 
 
 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!^ 
 
 t "What tho' in worlds which sightless cycles run, 
 Link'd to a little system, and one sun — 
 Where all my love 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?) 
 
 • Seltsamen Tochter Jovis 
 Seinem Schosskinde 
 Der Phantasie. — Goethe. 
 
 t Sightless — too small to be seen. — Legge. 
 
AL AARAAF IO5 
 
 What tho' in worlds which own 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 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-moon&d eve! — on Earth we plight 
 Our faith to one love — and one moon adore — 
 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 mountain and dim plain 
 tHer 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 
 
 * I have often noticed a peculiar movement of the fire-flies; — 
 they will collect in a body and fly off, from a common centre, into 
 innumerable radii. 
 
 t Therasaea, or Therasea, the island mentioned by Seneca, which, 
 in a moment, arose from the sea to the eyes of astonished mariners. 
 
I06 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 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 sunlit ether, caught the ray 
 
 Of sunken suns at eve — at noon of night, 
 
 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. 
 
 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 loves the best for Beauty's grave 
 
 Lurk'd in each cornice, round each architrave — : 
 
 And every sculptur'd 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. 
 
 • Some star which, from the ruin'd roof 
 Of shak'd Olympus, by mischance, did fall. — Milton, 
 
\/ 
 
 AL AARAAF 10? 
 
 * Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis — 
 From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss 
 tOf beautiful Gomorrah! 0, the wave 
 Is now upon thee — but too late to save! 
 
 Sound loves to revel in a summer night: 
 
 Witness the murmur of the grey twilight 
 
 X 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 distance 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 — 't is the rush of wings — 
 
 * Voltaire, in spealting of Persepolis says, "Je connois bien 
 I'admiration qu'inspirent ces ruines — mais un palais erig€ au pied 
 d'une chaine des rocliers sterils — peut il 6tre un chef d'oeuvre des 
 arts!". 
 
 t"0, the wave" — XJla Deguisiis the Turkish appellation; but, 
 on its own shores, it is called Bahar Loth, or Almotanah. There 
 were undoubtedly more than two cities engulphed in the "dead 
 sea." In the valley of Siddim were five — Adrah, Zeboin, Zoar, 
 Sodom and Gomorrah. Stephen of Byzantium mentions eight, 
 and Strabo thirteen, (engulphed) — but the last is out of all rea- 
 son. 
 
 It is said (Tacitus, Strabo, Josephus, Daniel of St. Saba, Nau, 
 Maundrell, Troilo, D'Arvieux) that after an excessive drought, 
 the^vestiges of columns, walls, &c. are seen above the surface. At 
 any season, such remains may be discovered by looking down into 
 the transparent lake, and at such distances as would argue the ex- 
 istence of many settlements in the space now usurped by the 'As- 
 phaltites.' 
 
 X Eyraco — Chaldea. 
 
 § I have often thought I could distinctly bear the sound of the 
 darkness as it stole over the horizon. 
 
I08 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 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. 
 Within the centre of that hall to breathe 
 She paus'd 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 blue-bell or streamer — 
 
 Or tufted wild spray 
 That keeps, from the dreamer, 
 
 fThe moonbeam away — 
 Bright beings! that ponder. 
 
 With half closing eyes, 
 
 * Fairies use flowers for their charactery. — Merry Wives of 
 Windsor. 
 
 t In Scripture is this passage — "The sun shall not harm thee 
 by day, nor the moon by night." It is perhaps not generally 
 known that the moon, in Egypt, has the effect of producing blind- 
 ness to those who sleep with the face exposed to its rays, to which 
 circumstance the passage evidently alludes. 
 
AL AARAAF IO9 
 
 On the stars which your wonder 
 
 Hath drawn from the skieSj 
 '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-Htten hours — 
 And shake from your tresses 
 
 Encumber'd with dew 
 The breath of those kisses 
 
 That cumber them too — 
 (0! how, without you, Love! 
 
 Could angels be blest?) 
 Those kisses of true love 
 
 ThatluU'dye to rest! 
 Upj — 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, 
 01 is it thy will 
 
 On the breezes to toss ? 
 
no POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 Or, capridously 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 
 
 Which leaps down to the flower. 
 And dances again 
 
 In the rhythm of the shower — 
 tThe murmur that springs 
 
 From the growing of grass 
 Are the music of things — 
 
 But are modell'd, alas! — 
 Away, then my dearest, 
 
 O! hie thee away 
 To springs that lie clearest 
 
 Beneath the moon-ray — 
 To lone lake that smiles, 
 
 In its dream of deep rest, 
 
 * The Albatross is said to sleep on the wing. 
 
 t I met with this idea in an old English tale, which I am now 
 unable to obtain and quote frxMn memory: — "The verie essence 
 and, as it were, springeheade and engine of all musiche is the verie 
 pleasaunte sounde which the trees of the forest do make when they 
 growe." 
 
AL AARAAF III 
 
 At the many star-isles 
 
 That enjewel its breast — 
 Where wild flowers, creeping, 
 
 Have mingled their shade, 
 On its margin is sleeping 
 
 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, 
 The musical number 
 
 They slumber'd 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?" 
 
 Spirits in wing, and angels to the view, 
 
 A thousand seraphs burst th' Empyrean thro', 
 
 * The wild bee will not sleep in the shade if there be moonlight. 
 
 The rh3Tne in this verse, as in one about sixty lines before, has 
 an appearance of affectation. It is, however, imitated from Sir 
 W. Scott, or rather from Claud Halcro — in whose mouth I ad- 
 mired its affect: 
 
 01 were there an island, 
 
 Tho' ever so wild 
 Where woman might smile, and 
 
 No man be beguil'd, &C. 
 
112 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 Young dreams still hovering on their drowsy flight — 
 
 Seraphs in all but "Knowledge," the keen light 
 
 That fell, refracted, thro' thy bounds, afar 
 
 Death! from eye of God upon that star: 
 
 Sweet was that error — sweeter still that death — 
 
 Sweet was that error — ev'n with us the breath 
 
 Of Science dims the mirror of our joy — 
 
 To them 't were the Simoom, and would destfoy — 
 
 For what (to them) availeth it to know 
 
 That Truth is Falsehood — or that Bliss is Woe?J 
 
 Sweet was their death — with them to die was xife 
 
 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! 
 What guilty spirit, in what shrubbery dim, 
 Heard not the stirring summons of that hymn? 
 
 * With the Arabians there is a medium between Heaven and Hell, 
 where men suffer no punishment, but yet do not attain that tran- 
 quil and even happiness which they suppose to be characteristic 
 of heavenly enjoyment. 
 
 Un no rompido sueno — 
 
 Un dia puro — allegre — libre 
 
 Quiera — 
 
 Libre de amor — de zelo — 
 
 De odio — de esperanza — de rezelo. — Luis Ponce de Leon. 
 
 Sorrow is not excluded from "Al Aaraaf," but it is that sorrow 
 which the living love to cherish for the dead, and which, in some 
 minds, resembles the delirium of opium. The passionate excite- 
 ment of Love and the buoyancy of spirit attendant upon intoxica- 
 tion are its less holy pleasur0s — the price of which, to those souls 
 who make choice of "Al Aaraaf" as their residence after life, is 
 final death and annihilation. 
 
AL AARAAF, II3 
 
 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. 
 The night had found (to him a night of wo) 
 Upon a mountain crag, young Angelo — 
 Beetling it bends athwart the solemn sky. 
 And scowls on starry worlds that down beneath it lie. 
 Here sate 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 't is 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 — 
 
 •There be tears of perfect moan 
 Wept for thee in Helicon. — Milton. 
 
114 POEMS WRITTEN IN YOUTH 
 
 And on my eye-lids — the heavy light! 
 
 How drowsily it weigh'd them into night! 
 
 On flowers, before, and mist, and love they ran 
 
 With Persian Saadi in his Gulistan: 
 
 But 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 call'd the Parthenon — 
 
 More beauty clung around her column'd wall 
 
 t 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 
 
 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 there 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 
 
 t 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 — 
 
 • It was entire in 1687 — the most elevated spot in Athens. 
 t Shadowing more beauty in their airy brows 
 Than have the white breasts of the Queen of Love. — Martow4, 
 X Pennon — for pinion. — Milton. 
 
AL AARAAF II5 
 
 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, 
 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 came, amid a night of mirth, 
 v^ 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 
 
 Ske grants to us, as granted by her God — 
 
 But, Angelo, than thine grey Time unfurl'd 
 
 Never his fairy wing o'er f airier 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 
 
 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 paus'd 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. 
 
J 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, 
 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. 
 
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 Loveliness 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! 
 
 Who saw thee on that bridal day, 
 
 When that deep blush would come o'er thee, 
 Though happiness around thee lay. 
 
 The world all love before thee. 
 
V DREAMS 
 
 Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! 
 
 My spirit not awakening, till the beam 
 
 Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. 
 
 lies! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 
 
 'T were 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 deep 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, 
 
 'T were folly still to hope for higher Heaven. 
 
 For I have revell'd when the sun was bright 
 
 I' the summer sky, in dreams of living light, 
 
 And loveliness, — have left my very heart 
 
 Inclines of my imagining, apart 
 
 From mine own home, with beings that have been 
 
 Of mine own thought — what more could I have seen? 
 
 'T was once — and only once — and the wild hour 
 
 From my remembrance shall not pass — some power 
 
 Or spell had bound me — 't was 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 1 19 
 
 Dreams! in their vivid colouring of life 
 
 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. 
 
SPIRITS OF THE DEAD 
 
 I 
 
 Thy soul shall find itself alone 
 
 'Mid dark thoughts of the gray tomb-stone • 
 
 Not one, of all the crowd, to pry 
 
 Into thine hour of secrecy: 
 
 II 
 
 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. 
 
 Ill 
 
 The night — tho' clear — shall frown — 
 And the stars shall look not 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. 
 
 IV 
 
 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. 
 
SPIRITS OF THE DEAD 121 
 
 V 
 
 The breeze — the breath of God — is still — 
 
 And the mist upon the hill 
 
 Shadowy — shadowy — yet unbroken, 
 
 Is a symbol and a token — 
 
 How it hangs upon the trees, 
 
 A mystery of mysteries 1 — 
 
EVENING STAR 
 
 'T WAS 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. 
 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. 
 
TO » 
 
 Take this kiss upon thy browl 
 
 And, in parting from you now, 
 
 Thus much let me avow — 
 
 You are not wrong, to 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. 
 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! 
 0, God! can I not grasp 
 Them with a tighter clasp? 
 0, God! can I not save 
 One from the pitiless wave? 
 Is all that we see or seem 
 But a dream within a dream? 
 
 > Poe's title in the Flag of OurUnion was "A Dream within a 
 Dream." 
 
'IN YOUTH HAVE I KNOWN ONE WITH 
 WHOM THE EARTH"! 
 
 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! * 
 
 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 — 
 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 ferver 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? 
 
 ' The late E. C. Stedman gave this the title of " Stanzas " 
 in the Stedman-Woodberry edition of Poe's poems, which all 
 succeeding editions have followed. 
 
 2 Byron, "The Island." 
 
IN YOUTH HAVE I KNOWN ONE I25 
 
 3 
 Doth o'er us pass, when, as th' expanding eye 
 To the loved object — so the tear to the lid . 
 Will start, which lately slept in apathy? 
 And yet it need not be — (that object) hid 
 From us in life — but common — which doth lie 
 Each hour before us — but then only, bid 
 With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken, 
 To awake us — 'T is a symbol and a token 
 
 4 
 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. 
 
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 aroxmd him with a ray 
 
 Turned back upon the past? 
 
 That holy dream — that holy dream, 
 
 While all the world were chiding, 
 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? 
 
"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 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 flutter'd — fell 
 An essence — powerful to destroy 
 
 A soul that knew it well. 
 
./ 
 
 V^ THE LAKE 
 To 
 
 In youth's spring 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 tower'd around — 
 
 But when the night had thrown h'^r pall 
 
 Upon that spot, as upon all. 
 
 And the ghastly wind went by 
 
 In a dirge-like melody, 
 
 Then — ah then I would awake 
 
 To the terror of that lone lake. 
 
 Yet that terror was not fright, 
 
 But a tremulous delight — 
 
 A feeling not the jewell'd mine 
 
 Could teach or bribe me to define. 
 
 Nor love — although the love were thine. 
 
 Death was in that poison'd wave. 
 And in its depth a fitting grave 
 For him who thence could solace bring 
 To his lone imagining — 
 Whose solitary soul could make 
 An Eden of that dim lake. 
 
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, 
 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. 
 
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; 
 For in his heart, as in thy stream, 
 
 Her image deeply lies — 
 His heart which trembles at the beam 
 
 Of her soul-searching eyes. 
 
TO 
 
 I HEED not that my earthly lot 
 
 Hath — little of Earth in it — 
 That years of love have been forgot 
 
 In the hatred of a minute: — 
 I mourn not that the desolate 
 
 Are happier, sweet, than I, 
 But that you sorrow for my fate 
 
 Who am a passer by. 
 
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, 
 
 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. 
 
FAIRY-LAND I33 
 
 In the morning they arise, 
 And their moony covering 
 Is soaring in the skies, 
 With the tempests as they toss. 
 
 Like almost any thing — 
 
 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. 
 
J TO HELEN 
 
 Helen, thy beauty is to me 
 Like those Nicean barks of yore, 
 
 That gently, o'er a perfumed sea. 
 The weary, way-worn 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. 
 
 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 Hgly-Land! 
 ~9 
 
FROM AN ALBUM (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 lov'd — I lov'd alone — 
 Then — in my childhood — in the dawn 
 Of a most stormy life — was drawn 
 From ev'ry depth of good and ill 
 The mystery which binds me still — 
 From the torrent, or the fountain — 
 From the red cliff of the mountain — 
 From the sun that 'round me roU'd 
 In its autumn tint of gold — 
 From the lightning in the sky 
 As it pass'd 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 — 
 
POEMS NOW FIRST COL- 
 LECTED 
 

 ^a^rntenC ofapoemffrom Poe^e SotUhem Literary MesBengtr deak 
 Copyrightf 3308, by J. H. Whitty 
 
POEMS NOW FIRST COL- 
 LECTED 
 
 SPIRITUAL SONG 
 
 Hark, echo! — Hark; echo ! 
 'T is the sound 
 Of archangels, in happiness wrapt 
 
ELIZABETH 
 
 Elizabeth — it surely is most fit 
 
 [Logic and common usage so commanding] 
 
 In thy own book that first thy name be writ, 
 
 Zeno' and other sages notwithstanding; 
 
 And / have other reasons for so doing 
 
 Besides my innate love of contradiction; k 
 
 Each poet — if a poet — in persuing 
 
 The muses thro' their bowers of Truth or Fiction, 
 
 Has studied very little of his part, 
 
 Read nothing, written less — in short 's a fool 
 
 Endued with neither soul, nor sense, nor art, 
 
 Being ignorant of one important rule. 
 
 Employed in even the theses of the school — 
 
 Called — I forget the heathenish Greek name — 
 
 [Called anything, its meaning is the same] 
 
 "Always mite first things uppermost in the heart." 
 
 > It was a sajdng of this philosopher " that one's own name should 
 never appear in one's own book." 
 
FROM AN ALBUM 
 
 Elizabeth it is in vain you say 
 
 "Love not" — thou sayest it in so sweet a way: 
 
 In vain those words from thee or L. E. L. 
 
 Zantippe's talents had enforced so well: 
 
 Ah! if that language from thy heart arise, 
 
 Breathe it less gently forth — and veil thine eyes. 
 
 Endymion, recollect, when Luna tried 
 
 To cure his love — was cured of all beside — 
 
 His folly — pride — and passion — for he died. 
 
TO SARAH 
 
 When melancholy and alone, 
 I sit on some moss-covered stone 
 Beside a murm'ring stream; 
 I think I hear thy voice's sound 
 In every tuneful thing around. 
 Oh! what a pleasant dream. 
 
 The silvery streamlet gurgling on. 
 The mock-bird chirping on the thorn, 
 Remind me, love, of thee. 
 They seem to whisper thoughts of love, 
 As thou didst when the stars above 
 Witnessed thy vows to me; — 
 
 The gentle zephyr floating by. 
 In chorus to my pensive sigh. 
 Recalls the hour of bliss, 
 When from thy balmy lips I drew 
 Fragrance as sweet as Hermia's dew. 
 And left the first fond kiss. 
 
 In such an hour, when are forgot. 
 
 The world, its cares, and my own lot. 
 
 Thou seemest then to be, 
 
 A gentle guardian spirit given 
 
 To guide my wandering thoughts to heaven. 
 
 If they should stray from thee. 
 
\/b 
 
 HE GREAT MAN 
 
 The greatman lives forevershrmed in the heartsof men, 
 Albeit form and feature may fade from human ken; 
 Recorded are his actions on history's living page — 
 They shine with purer lustre with each successive age. 
 Immortal aye immortal, undying as a God 
 The sands of time are printed wherever his feet have 
 
 trod. 
 Above his dust no monument may proudly rear its 
 
 head 
 To mark the spot where resteth, the mighty and the 
 
 dead. 
 Heneedeth no mausoleum, nor shaft need pierce the sky 
 To point to coming ages, where his sacred ashes lie. 
 No! that may be forgotten, but aroimd his glorious 
 
 name 
 Will shine the dazzling halo of a never dying fame. 
 His requiem will be chanted in the wild bird's sweetest 
 
 song, 
 The summer breeze and wintry gale the sad notes will 
 
 prolong, 
 The flowers of spring time and the leaves of autumn 
 
 be his pall, 
 Long as the one shall blossom, long as the other fall. 
 Here is a noble lesson. Oh! let it graven be 
 In characters unfading on the page of memory. 
 Like the needle to the mariner amidst the tempestwrath 
 Let it fire your hopes and guide you as you tread life's 
 
 thorny path. 
 
GRATITUDE 
 
 To 
 
 As turns the eye to bless the hand that led its infant 
 
 years, 
 As list'ning still for that sweet voice which every tone 
 
 endears, 
 So I to thee, through mental power, would each remem- 
 brance trace. 
 And bless the hand that led me on to fonts of lasting 
 
 grace. 
 As sailor on the billowy deep hath seen some light afar, 
 And shunned the rock that lies between his pathway 
 
 and the star. 
 So hast thou been o'er stormy wave to me, 'mid sorrow's 
 
 night, 
 A beacon true whose glory spreads afar its rays of light. 
 As flow sweet sounds of melody from strings drawn out 
 
 by skill, 
 As roll its wavelets o'er the soul and all its chambers 
 
 fill. 
 So came the words of holy truth endued with wisdom's 
 
 zeal. 
 So fell their impress on my heart and stamped it with 
 
 their seal. 
 
 As runs the rivulet its course and swifter as it flows. 
 Still murmuring of the hidden depths where first its 
 waters rose, 
 
GRATITUDE I45 
 
 So evermore as life glides on expanding far and wide, 
 Will turn the heart to where at firstwas ope'd its holiest 
 
 tide. 
 As pours the captive bird its song to him who sets it 
 
 free, 
 So flows my breath in song of praise in gratitude to thee. 
 As o'er the earth the sun reflects its rays of living light, 
 So thou by thy pure rays of thought art power to men- 
 tal sight! 
 
AN ENIGMA 
 
 First, find out a word that doth silence proclaim, 
 And that backwards and forwards is always the same, 
 Then next you must find out a feminine name 
 That backwards and forwards is always the same; 
 An act, or a writing on parchment whose name 
 Both backwards and forwards is always the same; 
 A fruit that is rare, whose botanical name 
 Read backwards and forwards is always the same; 
 A note, used in music, which time doth proclaim. 
 And backwards and forwards is always the same; 
 Their initials connected, a title will frame. 
 That is justly the due of the fair married dame, 
 Which backwards and forwards is always the same. 
 
IMPROMPTU 
 
 To Kale Carol 
 
 When from your gems of thought I turn 
 To those pure orbs, your heart to learn, 
 I scarce know which to prize most high — 
 The bright i-dea, or bright dear-eye. 
 
STANZAS 
 
 Lady! I would that verse of mine 
 Could fling, all lavishly and free, 
 Prophetic tones from every line, 
 Of health, joy, peace, in store for thee. 
 
 Thine should be length of happy days, 
 Enduring joys and fleeting cares. 
 Virtue that challenge envy's praise. 
 By rivals loved, and mourned by heirs. 
 
 Thy life's free course shovdd ever roam. 
 Beyond this bounded earthly clime. 
 No billow breaking into foam 
 Upon the rock-girt shore of Time. 
 
 The gladness of a gentle heart, 
 Pxire as the wishes breathed in prayer, 
 Which has in others' joys a part, 
 While in its own all others share. 
 
 The fullness of a cultured mind, _ 
 Stored with the wealth of bard and sage, 
 Which Error's glitter cannot blind. 
 Lustrous in youth, undimmed in age; 
 
 The grandeur of a guileless soul. 
 With wisdom, virtues, feeling fraught, 
 Gliding serenely to its goal, 
 Beneath the eternal sky of Thought: — 
 
STANZAS 149 
 
 These should be thine, to guard and shield, 
 And this the life thy spirit live, 
 Blest with all bliss that earth can yield. 
 Bright Vfith all hopes that Heaven can give. 
 
THE DIVINE RIGHT OF KINGS 
 
 The only king by right divine 
 Is Ellen King, and were she mine 
 I'd strive for liberty no more, 
 But hug the glorious chains I wore. 
 
 Her bosom is an ivory throne. 
 Where tyrant virtue reigns alone; 
 No subject vice dare interfere, 
 To check the power that governs here. 
 
 Oh! would she deign to rule my fate 
 I'd worship Kings with kingly state, 
 And hold this maxim all life long. 
 The King — my King — can do no wrong. 
 
THE VITAL STREAM 
 
 Flow softly — gently — vital stream; 
 Ye crimson life-drops, stay; 
 Indulge me with this pleasing dream 
 Thro' an eternal day. 
 
 See — see — my soul, her agony! 
 See how her eye-balls glare! 
 Those shrieks, delightful harmony, 
 Proclaim her deep despair. 
 
 Rise — rise — infernal spirits, rise, 
 Swift dart across her brain 
 Thou Horror, with blood-chilling cries, 
 Lead on thy hidious train. 
 
 O, feast my soul, revenge is sweet, 
 Louisa, take my scorn; — 
 Curs'd was the hour that saw us meet, 
 The hour when we were born. 
 
 A 
 
COUPLET 
 
 Deep in earth my love is lying 
 And I must weep alone. 
 
LINES TO JOE LOCKE 
 
 As for Locke, he is all in my eye, 
 May the d — 1 right soon for his soiil call.) 
 He never was known to lie — 
 In bed at a reveille " roll call." 
 
 John Locke was a notable name; 
 Joe Locke is a greater; in short, 
 The former was well known to fame. 
 But the latter 's well known " to report." 
 
ADDITIONAL POEMS WITH 
 POETRY ATTRIBUTED TO POE 
 
ADDITIONAL POEMS WITH 
 POETRY ATTRIBUTED TO POE 
 
 SONG OF TRIUMPH 
 
 {From late Four Beasts In One) 
 Southern Literary Messenger 
 
 Who is king but Epiphanes? 
 
 Say — do you know? 
 Who is king but Epiphanes? 
 
 Bravo — bravo! 
 There is none but Epiphanes, 
 
 No — there is none: 
 So tear down the temples, 
 
 And put out the sun! 
 Who is king but Epiphanes? 
 
 Say — do you know? 
 Who is king but Epiphanes? 
 
 Bravo — bravo! 
 
LATIN HYMN 
 
 (From tale Four Beasts In One) 
 Southern Literary Messenger 
 
 A THOUSAND, a thousand, a thousand, 
 
 A thousand, a thousand, a thousand. 
 
 We, with one warrior, have slain! 
 
 A thousand, a thousand, a thousand, a thousand, 
 
 Sing a thousand over again! 
 
 Soho! — let us sing 
 Long life to our king. 
 Who knocked over a thousand so fine! 
 
 Soho! — let us roar. 
 He has given us more 
 
 Red gallons of gore 
 Than all Syria can furnish of wine ! 
 
THE SKELETON-HAND 
 
 (Attributed to Poe) 
 
 IFnm The Yankee, August, iSiff.] 
 
 Lo! one is on the mountain side, 
 While the clouds are passing by — 
 
 With their black wings flapping heavily, 
 Like eagles in the sky; 
 
 Or lying up in the forest trees. 
 And waiting there for the mountain-breeze. 
 
 And now he passes through the clouds — 
 
 And up to the mountain-top. 
 Nor yet to look for the joyous sun 
 
 Does the hasty traveller stop. 
 
 But he leapeth down in the broken path 
 
 With a step as light and free — 
 As ever in his days of mirth. 
 
 In the dance and revelry. 
 
 Why endeth he his hasty speed? 
 
 Why stoppeth on his way? 
 In truth it is a fearful thing. 
 
 For human tongue to say. 
 
 He fears that toward him pointeth there, 
 
 A fleshless human hand; 
 Where the mountain rains have swept away. 
 
 Its covering of sand; 
 
l60 ADDITIONAL POEMS 
 
 That hand his very soul doth stir, 
 For it proveth him a murderer. 
 
 Ay long ago on the mountain side, 
 
 The fearful deed was done; 
 And the murderer thought him safe, that none 
 
 Could see, save the broad bright sun. 
 As he rolled in the heavens the dead above, 
 
 And flooded the earth with his rays of love. 
 
 Now lifted he his clouded eye. 
 
 To the mountain crests behind; 
 And o'er them came the broad black clouds, 
 
 Upheaving with the wind; 
 And on them their thick darkness spread — 
 
 A crown upon the mountain's head. 
 
 And then shone out the flaming sun. 
 
 From the waters of the sea; 
 And God's own bow came in the clouds. 
 
 And looked out gloriously; 
 But its colours were of wo and wrath. 
 
 That threw their light o'er the murderer's path. 
 
 And now God's chariots — the clouds, 
 
 Came rolling down with might; 
 Their wheels like many horsemen were, 
 
 In battle or in flight. 
 And yet no power to move hath he, 
 
 His soul is in an agony. 
 
 Over the murderer and dead 
 They rolled their mighty host; 
 
THE SKELETON-HAND l6l 
 
 Old ocean's waves come not so thick, 
 By northern tempests tost. 
 
 Forth from their mighty bosom came, 
 
 A flash of heaven's wrath, 
 And away the heavy clouds — and dun. 
 
 Rolled from the murder-path. 
 And the sun shone out where the murderer lay, 
 Before the dead in the narrow way — 
 With his hand all seared, and his breast torn bare — 
 God's vengeance had been working there. 
 
 P. 
 
THE MAGICIAN' 
 
 {Attributed to Foe) 
 
 [PfDm The Yankee, December, iSaoi 
 
 MAGICIAN 
 
 Thou dark, sea-stirring storm, 
 Whence comest thou in thy might — 
 Nay — wait, thou dim and dreamy form — 
 Storm spirit, I call thee — 't is mine of right — 
 Arrest thee in thy troubled flight. 
 
 STORM SPIRIT 
 
 Thou askest me whence I came — 
 
 I came o'er the sleeping sea. 
 
 It roused at my torrent of storm and flame, 
 
 And it howled aloud in its agony. 
 
 And swelled to the sky — that sleeping sea. 
 
 Thou askest me what I met — 
 
 A ship from the Indian shore, 
 
 A tall proud ship with her sails all set — 
 
 Far down in the sea that ship I bore. 
 
 My storms wild rushing wings before. 
 
 And her men will forever lie, 
 Below the unquiet sea; 
 And tears will dim full many an eye, 
 ' The punctuation throughout is the author's — by desire. 
 
THE MAGICIAN 1 63 
 
 Of those who shall widows and orphans be, 
 And their days be years — for their misery. 
 
 A boat with a starving crew — 
 
 For hunger they howled and swore; 
 
 While the blood from a fellow's veins they drew 
 
 I came upon them with rush and roar — 
 
 Far under the waves that boat I bore. 
 
 Two ships in a fearful fight — 
 
 When a hundred guns did flash 
 
 I came upon them — no time for flight — 
 
 But under the sea their timbers crash 
 
 And over their guns the wild waters dash 
 
 A wretch on a single plank — 
 
 And I tossed him on the shore — 
 
 A night and a day of the sea he drank, 
 
 But the wearied wretch to the land I bore — 
 
 And now he walketh the earth once more. 
 
 MAGICIAN 
 
 Storm spirit — go on thy path — 
 
 The spirit has spread his wings — 
 And comes on the sea with a rush of wrath, 
 As a war horse when he springs — 
 And over the earth his winds he flings — 
 And over the earth — nor stop nor stay — 
 The winds of the storm king go out on their way. 
 
 P 
 
QUEEN OF MAY ODE 
 
 Fairies guard the Queen of May, 
 Let her reign in Peace and Honor — 
 Every blessing be upon her; 
 May her future pathway lie, 
 All beneath a smiling sky. 
 
 Note 
 
 Mrs. Harriet Virginia Thomson, n6e Scott, of Austin, Texas, who 
 is over ninety years of age, knew Poe in Richmond, Va. She lived 
 there with her parents when a girl, residing on the Main street 
 near the Southern Literary Messenger office. She saw Poe pass her 
 house several times daily, and in those early days looked upon 
 him as a great poet. 
 
 Her school was to have a May Queen celebration, and~she was 
 required to recite verses to the May Queen. In company with a 
 cousin, an attorney, of Richmond, and a warm friend of Mr. Poe's, 
 she called at the Messenger office^ and asked Mr. Poe to write 
 her a May Queen Ode. 
 
 He readily complied, and sent her the lines the following day. 
 The manuscript was preserved for some time, but finally went 
 astray. 
 
 Mrs. Thomson remembers that there were four or five stanzas, 
 as she committed them to memory, and recited them on the 
 occasion. One of the stanzas, she says, she never forgot, and gives 
 it as above from memory. 
 
 The school celebration was published in some pamphlet or 
 periodical at the time and the lines printed, but she does not think 
 they were credited to Mr. Poe. 
 
FANNY 
 
 The dying swan by northern lakes 
 Sings its wild death song, sweet and clear, 
 And as the solemn music breaks 
 O'er hill and glen dissolves in air; 
 Thus musical thy soft voice came, 
 Thus trembled on thy tongue my name. 
 
 Like sunburst through the ebon cloud, 
 Which veils the solemn midnight sky. 
 Piercing cold evening's sable shroud 
 Thus came the first glance of that eye; 
 But like the adamantine rock. 
 My spirit met and braved the shock. 
 
 Let memory the boy recall 
 
 Who laid his heart upon thy shrine. 
 
 When far away his footsteps fall. 
 
 Think that he deem'd thy charms divine; 
 
 A victim on love's altar slain, 
 
 By witching eyes which looked disdain. 
 
 Note 
 
 The above was printed in the Baltimore Saturday Visiter of 
 
 May i8, 1833. Like the poem "To " on the following page, 
 
 which also appeared in the same newspaper May 11, 1833, the 
 verses were signed "Tamerlane." 
 
1 66 ADDITIONAL POEMS 
 
 TO 
 
 Sleep on, sleep on, another hour — 
 I would not break so calm a sleep. 
 To wake to sunshine and to show'r, 
 To smile and weep. 
 
 Sleep on, sleep on, like sculptured thing, 
 Majestic, beautiful art thou; 
 Sure seraph shields thee with his wing 
 And fans thy brow — 
 
 We would not deem thee child of earth, 
 For, O, angelic is thy form! 
 But that in heav'n thou had'st thy birth, 
 Where comes no storm 
 
 To mar the bright, the perfect flow'r. 
 But all is beautiful and still — 
 And golden sands proclaim the hour 
 Which brings no ill. 
 
 Sleep on, sleep on, some fairy dream 
 Perchance is woven in thy sleep — 
 But, O, thy spirit, calm, serene, 
 Must wake to weep. 
 
OH, TEMPORA! OH, MORES! 
 
 The Baltimore No Name Magazine of October, 1889, 
 printed the following as an unpublished poem by Poe: — 
 
 "The following verses which have never before appeared 
 in print were written by Edgar Allan Poe at the age of sev- 
 enteen, and were for more than half a century in the posses- 
 sion of the late John H.MacKenzie ' of Henrico County, Vir- 
 ginia, whose mother adopted Rosalie Poe, Edgar's sister, at 
 the same time that Edgar was adopted by Mrs. Allan of 
 Richmond. The satire is interesting as perhaps the earliest of 
 Poe's writings known to exist. The luckless Pitts, lampooned 
 by Poe, was a clerk in the leading fashionable dry-goods store 
 of Richmond at the time, and was paying court to a youthful 
 belle of the period who afterwards married a prominent Vir- 
 ginia politician and member of Congress, and who sometimes 
 smiled dans sa premiere jeunesse on the wayward young 
 Edgar with the bright eyes and hyacinthine curls. Doubt- 
 less that lady's escritoire contained many a woful ballad 
 and lovesick sonnet of the precocious madcap. The fre- 
 quent use of parliamentary phrases, and the mention of mem- 
 ber's claws and member's logic shows that 'Oh, Temporal 
 Oh, Mores I' was written chiefly for the ridicule of Pitts in 
 the eyes of certain members of the Virginia legislature who 
 were then boarding in the same house with him. 
 
 " All the parties in any manner connected with this lam- 
 poon — the fair lady, the distinguished M. C, the author 
 and his victim — have long since passed away, and its pub- 
 lication now can wound the sensibility of no human being, 
 ' He was a youthful companion of Poe. 
 
1 68 ADDITIONAL POEMS 
 
 while the numberless admirers of the author of 'The Raven* 
 will read with interest an authentic poem written by him 
 when a boy, — an iflterest similar in kind — if not as great 
 in degree — to that which would be inspired by a juvenile 
 production of Tennyson or Sir Walter Scott." 
 
 y 
 
 OH, TEMPORA! OH, MORES! 
 
 Oh Times! Oh Manners! It is my opinion 
 That you are changing sadly your dominion — 
 I mean the reign of manners hath long ceased, 
 For men have none at all, or bad at least; 
 And as for times, although 't is said by many 
 The "good old times" were far the worst of any, 
 Of which sound doctrine I believe each tittle. 
 Yet still I think these worse than them a little. 
 
 I 've been a thinking, is n't that the phrase? 
 
 — I like your Yankee words and Yankee ways — 
 
 I 've been a thinking, whether it were best 
 
 To take things seriously or all in jest; 
 
 Whether with Heraclitus of yore 
 
 To weep, as he did, till his eyes were sore. 
 
 Or rather laugh with him, that queer Philosopher, 
 
 Democritus of Thrace, who used to toss over 
 
 The page of life and grin at the dog-ears. 
 
 As though he 'd say, "Why who the devil cares?" 
 
 This is a question which. Oh Heaven, withdraw 
 The luckless query from a Member's claw! 
 Instead of two sides. Job has nearly eight, 
 lEach fit to furnish forth four hours debate. 
 What shall be done? I '11 lay it on the table, 
 And take the matter up when I 'm more able, 
 
OH, tempora! oh, mores! 169 
 
 And in the meantime, to prevent all bother, 
 I '11 neither laugh with one or cry with t'other, 
 Nor deal in flattery or aspersions foul, 
 But, taking one by each hand, merely growl. 
 
 Ah growl, say you, my friend, and pray at what? 
 
 Why really, sir, I almost had forgot — 
 
 But damn it, sir, I deem it a disgrace 
 
 That things should stare us boldly in the face, 
 
 And daily strut the street with bows and scrapes, 
 
 Who would be men by imitating apes. 
 
 I beg your pardon, reader, for the oath, 
 
 The monkey made me swear, though something 
 
 loath; 
 I 'm apt to be discursive in my style. 
 But pray be patient: yet a little while 
 Will change me, and as politicians do 
 I '11 mend my manners and my measures too. 
 
 Of all the cities, and I 've seen no few, — 
 For I have travelled, friend, as well as you, — 
 I don't remember one, upon my soul. 
 But take it generally upon the whole, 
 (As Members say they like their logic taken 
 Because divided it may chance be shaken) 
 So pat, agreeable, and vastly proper 
 As this for a neat, frisky counter-hopper; 
 -Here he may revel to his heart's content. 
 Flounce like a fish in his own element, 
 Toss back his fine curls from their forehead fair 
 And hop o'er counters with a Vestris air, 
 Complete at night what he began A. M., 
 And having cheated ladies, dance with them; 
 
170 ADDITIONAL POEMS 
 
 For at a ball what fair one can escape 
 The pretty little hand that sold her tape, 
 Or who so cold, so callous to refuse 
 The youth who cut the ribbon for her shoes! 
 
 One of these fish, par excellence the beau, 
 God help me, it has been my lot to know, 
 At least by sight, for I 'm a timid man 
 And always keep from laughing when I can; 
 But speak to him, he '11 make you such grimace. 
 Lord! to be grave exceeds the power of face. 
 The hearts of all the ladies are with him. 
 Their bright eyes on his Tom and Jerry brim 
 And dove-tailed coat, obtained at cost; while then 
 Those won't turn on anything like men. 
 
 His very voice is musical delight. 
 
 His form once seen becomes a part of sight, 
 
 In short his shirt-collar, his look, his tone is 
 
 The "beau ideal" fancied for Adonis. 
 
 Philosophers have often held dispute 
 
 As to the seat of thought in man and brute. 
 
 For that the power of thought attend the latter 
 
 My friend, the beau, hath made a settled matter. 
 
 And spite all dogmas current in all ages. 
 
 One settled fact is better than ten sages. 
 
 For he does think, although I 'm oft in doubt 
 
 If I can tell exactly what about. 
 
 Ah yes! his little foot and ancle trim, 
 
 'T is there the seat of reason lies in him; 
 
 A wise philosopher would shake his head. 
 
 He then, of course, must shake his foot instead. 
 
OH, tempora! oh, mores! 171 
 
 At me in vengeance shall that foot be shaken — 
 Another proof of thought, I 'm not mistaken — 
 Because to his cat's eyes I hold a glass 
 And let him see himself a proper ass? 
 I think he '11 take this likeness to himself, 
 But if he won't he shall, the stupid elf, 
 And, lest the guessing throw the fool in fits, 
 I close the portrait with the name of Pitts. 
 
 Note 
 
 The Editor of the Magazine, Mr. Eugene L. Didier, wrote me 
 that the poem was sent him by John R. Thompson of the South- 
 ern Literary Messenger, and that the introduction was written by 
 Thompson. 
 
 The original manuscript of this poem in Poe's autograph was once 
 in the possession of John H. MacKenzie. It was destroyed with 
 other Poe papers by fire during the Civil War. A copy reading like 
 the above verses'is still preserved by'a step-daughter of Mr. Mac- 
 Kenzie, with an account of how it came to be written by Poe in 
 the year 1826. 
 
APPENDIX 
 
APPENDIX 
 I 
 
 THE BALTIMORE SATURDAY VISITER, ETC. 
 
 A VOLUME of The Baltimore Saturday Visiter for the year 
 1833 is preserved at Catonsville, Md. In all probability 
 Poe contributed to that newspaper the two poems "Fanny" 
 
 and "To " appearing on pages 165 and 166 of the 
 
 present volume. The Visiter of April 20, 1833, also pub- 
 lished the following verses: — 
 
 SERENADE — BY E. A. POE 
 
 So sweet the hour — so calm the time, 
 I feel it more than half a crime 
 When Nature sleeps and stars are mute. 
 To mar the silence, ev'n with lute. 
 At rest on ocean's brilliant dies 
 An image of Elysium lies: 
 Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven, 
 Form in the deep another seven: 
 Endymion nodding from above 
 Sees in the sea a second love: 
 Within the valleys dim and brown, 
 And on the spectral mountain's crown 
 The wearied light is dying down: 
 And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky 
 Are redolent of sleep, as I 
 Am redolent of thee and thine 
 Enthralling love, my Adeline. 
 But list, O list! — so soft and low 
 Thy lover's voice to-night shall flow 
 That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem 
 My words the music of a dream. 
 Thus, while no single soimd too rude. 
 
176 APPENDIX 
 
 Upon thy slumber shall intrude, 
 
 Our thoughts, our souls — O God above! 
 
 In every deed shall mingle, love. 
 
 A prize of fifty dollars was awarded Foe, October 12, 1833, 
 for his tale "MS. Found in a Bottle," which was pub- 
 lished in the Visiter of October 19. The text mainly follows 
 the version of the Southern Literary Messenger. The poem 
 "Coliseum" appeared in the Visiter of October 26, 1833. 
 The version closely follows that of the Southern Literary 
 Messenger with the exception of a new line at the beginning: 
 "Lone amphitheatre! Grey Coliseum!" 
 
 A file of the Philadelphia United States Military Magazine 
 has been located by the present editor. It contains selections 
 believed to be Poe's, but nothing is signed with his name. 
 A Poe couplet has been discovered in the last issue of the 
 Broadway Journal for January 3, 1846, by Mr. Thomas Ollive 
 Mabbott. It reads: — 
 
 I thought Kit North a bore — in 1824 — 
 I find the thoufelt alive — in 1845. 
 
 A translation of Frederick Spielhagen from Westermanns 
 Monats-Eefte on the Poe-Longfellow war by Mr. Carl A. 
 Weyerhauser points out for the fiarst time that Longfellow 
 in his tale called Kavanagh, Chapter XX, has a character 
 (Mr. Hathaway) representing Poe, while that of Mr. 
 Churchill represents Longfellow. 
 
 II 
 
 The following are from The Yankee and Boston Literary 
 Gazette, New Series, July-December, 1829, John Neal, 
 Editor: — 
 
 "To CoRKESPONDENTS.i If E. A. P. of Baltimore — 
 whose lines about Heaven, though he professes to regard 
 
 1 September, 1829. -^ 
 
APPENDIX 177 
 
 them as altogether superior to anything in the whole range 
 of American poetry, save two or three trifles referred to, are, 
 though nonsense, rather exquisite nonsense — would but do 
 himself justice, he might make a beautiful and perhaps a 
 magnificent poem. There is a good deal here to justify such a 
 
 hope: 
 
 Dim vales and shadowy floods, 
 And cloudy-looking woods, 
 Whose forms we can't discover 
 For the tears that — drip all over. 
 The moonlight 
 
 falls 
 
 Over hamlets, over halls. 
 
 Wherever they may be. 
 
 O'er the strange woods, o'er the sea — " 
 
 O'er spirits on the wing, 
 
 O'er every drowsy thing — 
 
 And buries them up quite 
 
 In a labyrinth of light, 
 
 And then how deep! — Oh deep! 
 
 Is the passion of their sleep I 
 
 "He should have signed it, Bah! . . . We have no room for 
 others." 
 
 " To Correspondents ^ Many papers intended for this 
 numberhavebeenputaside for the next, . . . Among others 
 are Night — The Magician — Unpublished Poetry (being 
 specimens of a book about to appear at Baltimore)." 
 
 " Unpublished Poetry ' The following passages are 
 from the manuscript-works of a young author, about to be 
 published in Baltimore. He is entirely a stranger to us, but 
 with all their faults, if the remainder of Al Aaraaf and Tamer- 
 lane are as good as the body of the extracts here given — to 
 say nothing of the more extraordinary parts, he will deserve 
 
 ■ November, iSig. ' December, 1S29. 
 
178 APPENDIX 
 
 to stand high — very high — in the estimation of the shin- 
 ing brotherhood. Whether he will do so however, must de- 
 pend, not so much upon his worth now in mere poetry, as 
 upon his worth hereafter in something yet loftier and more 
 generous — we allude to the stronger properties of the mind, 
 to the magnanimous determination that enables a youth to 
 endure the present, whatever the present may be, in the 
 hope, or rather in the belief, the fixed, unwavering belief, 
 that in the future he will find his reward. 'I am young,' he 
 says in a letter to one who has laid it on our table for a good 
 purpose, 'I am young — not yet twenty — am a. poet — if 
 deep worship of all beauty can make me one — and wish to 
 be so in the more common meaning of the word. I would 
 give the world to embody one half the ideas afloat in my 
 imagination. (By the way, do you remember — or did you 
 ever read the exclamation of Shelley about Shakspeare? — 
 "What a number of ideas must have been afloat before such 
 an author could arise!") I appeal to you as a man that loves 
 the same beauty which I adore — the beauty of the natural 
 blue sky and the sunshiny earth — there can be no tie more 
 strong than that of brother for brother — it is not so much 
 that they love one another, as that they both love the same 
 parent — their affections are always running in the same 
 direction — the same channel — and cannot help mingling. 
 I am and have been, from my childhood, an idler. It can- 
 not therefore be said that 
 
 "I left a calling for this idle trade, 
 A duty broke — a father disobeyed" — 
 
 for I have no father — nor mother. 
 
 I am about to publish a volume of "Poems," the greater 
 part written before I was fifteen. Speaking about "Heaven," * 
 
 ' A poem by the author of "Al Aaraaf," mentioned in No. Ill: 168. 
 
MRS. FRANCES KEELING ALLAN 
 POE'S FOSTER-MOTHER 
 
APPENDIX 179 
 
 the editor of the Yankee says, "He might write a beauti- 
 ful, if not a magnificent poem" — (the very first words of 
 encouragement I ever remember to have heard). I am very 
 certain that as yet I have not written either — but that I can, 
 I will take oath — if they will give me time. 
 
 The poems to be published are "Al Aaraaf " — "Tamer- 
 lane'' — one about four, and the other about three hundred 
 lines, with smaller pieces. "Al Aaraaf" has some good po- 
 etry, and much extravagance, which I have not had time 
 to throw away.* 
 
 "Al Aaraaf" is a tale of another world — the star discov- 
 ered by Tycho Brahe, which appeared and disappeared so 
 suddenly — or rather, it is no tale at all. I will insert an ex- 
 tract, about the palace of its presiding Deity, in which you 
 will see that I have supposed many of the lost sculptures of 
 our world to have flown (in spirit) to the star "Al Aaraaf" 
 — a delicate place, more suited to their divinity. 
 
 Uprear'd upon such height arose a pile 
 Of gorgeous columns on th' unburthened 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 
 
 * This will remind the reader of the foUowia^ anecdote. Your sermon was too 
 long sir — why did n't you make it shorter? / had n'l lifne. -^ [Editor's Note.J 
 
 • Alluding to a prior part. 
 
 ' The idea of linl^ed light is beautiful ; but, the moment you read it aloud, the 
 beauty is gone. To say link-ed light would be queer enough, notwithstanding 
 Moore's "wreath-ed shell "[ but ts say llnk'd-light would spoil the rhythm. 
 [Editor's Note.) 
 
l80 APPENDIX 
 
 Looked out above into the purple air, 
 
 And rays from God shot down that meteor chain 
 
 And hallow'd all the beauty twice again, 
 
 Save when, between th' Empjfrean, and that ring. 
 
 Some eager spirit flapp'd a dusky wing: 
 
 But, on the pillars, seraph eyes have seen 
 
 The dimness of this world: that grayish green 
 
 That nature loves the best for Beauty's grave, 
 
 Lurked in each cornice — round each architrave — 
 
 And every sculptur'd cherub thereabout 
 
 That from his marble dwelling ventured ' out. 
 
 Seemed earthly in the shadow of his niche — 
 
 Archaian statues in a world so rich? 
 
 Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis — 
 
 From Balbec and the stilly, clear abyss - 
 
 Of beautiful Gomorrah! — oh! the wave 
 
 Is now upon thee — but too late to save ! 
 
 Far down within the crystal of the lake 
 
 Thy swollen pillars tremble — and so quake 
 
 The hearts of many wanderers who look in 
 
 Thy luridness of beauty — and of sin. 
 
 Another — 
 
 — Silence is the voice of God — 
 Ours is a world of words: quiet we call 
 "Silence" — which is the merest word of all. 
 Here Nature speaks — and ev'n ideal things 
 Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings; 
 But ah! not so, when in the realms on high. 
 The eternal voice of God is moving by. 
 And the red winds are withering in the sky! 
 
 From Tamerlane — 
 
 The fever'd diadem on my brow 
 
 I claimed and won usurpingly: 
 Hath not the same fierce heirdonj given 
 
 Rome to the Caesar — this to me? 
 
 • The word in the origiaal was peered : we have changed it for the reason stated 
 above. — (Editor's Note.] 
 
APPENDIX I8l 
 
 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 
 Hath nestled in my very hair. 
 
 ir * * * 
 
 So late from Heaven, that dew, it fell. 
 
 Mid dreams of one unholy night, 
 Upon me with the touch of Hell — 
 
 While the red flashing of the light 
 From clouds that hung, like banners, o'er, 
 Seem'd then to my half-closing eye 
 The pageantry of monarchy; 
 And the deep trumpet-thunder's roar 
 Came hurriedly upon me telling 
 Of human battle (near me swelling). 
 
 * * * * 
 
 The rain came down upon my head 
 Unshelter'd, and the heavy wind 
 Was giantlike — so thou, my mind! 
 It was but man, I thought, who shed 
 Laurels upon me — and the rush — 
 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-throne. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 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, 
 
 I 'd throw me on her throbbing breast, 
 And pour my spirit out in tears, 
 
1 82 APPENDIX 
 
 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. 
 
 Tamerlane dying — 
 
 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 through Eternity — 
 I do beh'eve 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 undefiled things — 
 Whose pleasant bowers are yet so riven 
 Above with trelliced rays from Heaven 
 No mote may shun — no tiniest fly 
 The lightning of his eagle eye. 
 How was it that Ambition crept 
 
 Unseen, amid the revels there, 
 Till, growing bold, he laugh'd and leapt 
 
 In the tangles of Love's brilliant hair? 
 
 Passage from the minor poems. 
 
 If my peace hath flown away 
 In a night — or in a day — 
 In a vision — or in none — 
 Is it therefore the less gone? 
 I am standing mid the roar 
 Of a weatherbeaten shore. 
 And I hold within my hand 
 Some particles of sand — 
 
APPENDIX 183 
 
 How few! and how they creep 
 Through my fingers to the deep! 
 My early hopes? — No — they 
 Went gloriously away, 
 Like lightning from the sky 
 At once — and so will I." 
 
 Having allowed our youthful writer to be heard in his 
 own behalf, — what more can we do for the lovers of genu- 
 ine poetry? Nothing. They who are judges will not need 
 more; and they who are not — why waste words upon them? 
 We shall not. 
 
 Ill 
 
 MYTHICAL POE POEMS 
 
 Quite a number of mythical Poe poems have been pub- 
 lished. The three widest circulated of such poems are "The 
 Fire Legend," "Leonainie," and "Kelah." 
 
 The following named pamphlet written in heroic couplets 
 and comprising nine hundred and fifty lines and signed 
 Lavante has also been reprinted with an effort to show that 
 Poe was the author: "The Poets and Poetry of America. 
 K Satire. Philadelphia William S. Young — No. 173 Race 
 Street 1847." 
 
 IV 
 
 LETTERS RELATING TO POE 
 
 A collection of eight autograph letters of Thomas W. 
 White, proprietor of the Southern Literary Messenger, 
 written to Lucian Minor (at one time associated with him 
 on the Messenger), during Poe's first year with the magazine, 
 have never been published. They serve to throw new light 
 
1 84 APPENDIX 
 
 on Poe's connections with the Messenger during his early 
 career in Richmond, Virginia. 
 
 (i) A. L. S., I p., 4to. 
 
 Richmond, August i8, 1835. 
 
 I have, my dear sir, been compelled to part with Mr. 
 Sparhawk as regular editor. ... He will, however, con- 
 tinue to assist me. Mr. Poe is here also. He tarries one 
 month and will aid me all that lies in his power. 
 
 (2) A. L. S., 2 pp., 4to. 
 
 Richmond, September 8, 1835. 
 
 Poe is now in my employ — not as editor. He is unfor- 
 tunately rather dissipated — and therefore I can place very 
 little reliance upon him. His disposition is quite amiable. 
 He wiU be some assistance to me in proof-reading — at 
 least I hope so. 
 
 (3) A. L. S., 2 pp., 4to. 
 
 Richmond, September 21, 1835. 
 
 Poe has flew the track already. His habits were not good. 
 He is in addition a victim of melancholy. I should not be at 
 all astonished to hear that he had been guilty of suicide. 
 
 (4) A. L. S., 3 pp., 4to. 
 
 Richmond, October i, 1835. 
 
 I have just seen Mr. Heath. He thinks he can manage the 
 autography for me. He proposes striking out Cooper's and 
 Irving's names. I will not put the article in till I hear from 
 you. Give me your candid opinion of it. Poe is its author. 
 
 (5) A. L. S., I p., 4to. 
 
 Richmond, October 20, 1835. 
 Mr. Poe, who is with me again, read (your address) over 
 by copy with great care. He is very much pleased with it — 
 
APPENDIX 185 
 
 in fact Ke passes great encomiums upon it to me, and intends 
 noticing it under the head of Reviews. 
 
 (6) A. L, S., I p., small folio. 
 
 Richmond, October 24, 1835. 
 Suppose you send me a modest paragraph, mentioning 
 . . . the paper is now under my own editorial management, 
 assisted by several gentlemen of distinguished literary attain- 
 ments. You may introduce Mr. Poe's name as amongst 
 those engaged to contribute for its columns — taking care 
 not to say as editor. 
 
 (7) A. L. S., 3 pp., 4to. 
 
 Richmond, November 23, 1835. 
 You are altogether right about the Leslie critique. Poe 
 has evidently shown himself no lawyer — whatever else 
 he may be. 
 
 (8) A. L. S., 2 pp. 4to. 
 
 Richmond, December 25, 1835. 
 
 All the critical notices are from the pen of Poe — who, I 
 rejoice to tell you, still keeps from the Bottle. 
 
 There is also among the collection a letter addressed to 
 Lucian Minor altogether in Poe's autograph, but signed by 
 Thomas W. White. 
 
1 86 APPENDIX 
 
 THE ELLIS-ALLAN PAPERS* 
 
 New light is thrown upon the life of Edgar Allan Poe by 
 letters and documents; also original manuscripts in the hand- 
 writing of the poet, to be found among the Ellis-Allan 
 papers, deposited in the Library of Congress at Washington. 
 The collection consists of some four hundred and forty-two 
 portfolios, and volumes of office books and letters of an old 
 Richmond, Virginia, firm. John Allan, Poe's foster-father, 
 was a member of the firm until near the time of his death 
 in 1834. His executor, James Gait, has left the statement 
 through his son, Major John Allan Gait, that John Allan, 
 previous to taking into his home a second wife, packed all 
 his first wife's personal letters and papers, as well as his own, 
 into a trunk and stowed it away in the establishment of 
 Ellis & Allan. James Gait afterwards removed this trunk and 
 contents to his home in Fluvanna County, Virginia, where 
 the younger Gait had gone over them. From his recollec- 
 tions there were more unpublished letters of Poe's than are 
 now deposited with the Valentine Museum at Richmond, 
 Virginia. The second Mrs. AUan had later access to these 
 papers and took away mainly all the Poe letters, upon the 
 margins of which her husband had written caustic com- 
 ments, in answer to Poe's own arguments, as well as other 
 Allan family letters, in some of which there were references 
 to Poe's early trip to Scotland. The Poe letters taken away 
 were recalled, as touching largely about financial assistance 
 given to, and sought after by Poe. The letters in the Valen- 
 
 * Acknowledgments are due Miss Mary E. PbilHps, Mr. Gaillard Hunt and 
 Mr. J. C. Fitzpatrick for research assistance among the EUis-AUan papers in the 
 Library of Congress. Extracts from these papers by the writer were published 
 in the New York Nation, July 18, 1912, and January 27, 1916. 
 
APPENDIX 187 
 
 tine Museum are thought to number about thirty, if they 
 have all the t were taken by Mrs. Allan, while nearly a dozen 
 more were left in the trunk. A few of those left were ad- 
 dressed to the first Mrs. Allan, and couched in the most pas- 
 sionate terms of an affectionate son. The Ellis-Allan papers 
 were long in the possession of Colonel Thomas H. EUis, a 
 son of a member of the old firm. He furnished abstracts 
 from them to Professor G. E. Woodberry, who made the first 
 reference to them in his revised Life of Pee. After the death 
 of Colonel Ellis the papers were offered for sale. I purchased 
 books, newspapers and other effects belonging to the old 
 firm, but the bulk of the material went to the Library of 
 Congress as economic papers. There still remain in private 
 hands, however, important personal papers of a similar na- 
 ture to some of those already discovered about Poe in the 
 Ellis-Allan papers at Washington, and having reference to 
 the poet's earlier career. I have talked with one most fa- 
 miliar with these letters and papers, and know their present 
 whereabouts, but the owner does not feel that the time has 
 yet arrived to allow an examination of them. A letter writ- 
 ten by Poe to the Mills Nursery of Philadelphia, mentioned 
 in the memoir to this volume, and returned to John Allan, 
 as well as letters from Poe to Allan, bitterly denouncing his 
 foster-father for bad treatment, are all missing from the 
 collection of the papers in Washington. While Colonel Ellis 
 has stated that he destroyed some of the papers — probably 
 from a kind feeling for the Allan family — yet there is a pos- 
 sibility that some part of them still exist, and may come to 
 light later, with other Poe matters. 
 
 Poe in his youth spent much of his time about the Ellis 
 & Allan place of business, which is shown in an illustration 
 elsewhere in this volume. The building, as well as that of 
 the Southern Literary Messenger adjoining, were condemned 
 
I 88 APPENDIX 
 
 in the fall of the year 1916, and have both been taken down. 
 The material, however, has been saved and arrangements 
 are in process to have a reconstructed building of the old 
 Messenger architectural type erected, as a National Poe 
 Museum. 
 
 Poe was employed at the EUis & Allan concern just after 
 his return from college early in the year 1827. James Gait 
 in his recollections of Poe now gives the first and only con- 
 temporaneous account of Poe for this period as follows: 
 "Poe was employed in the EUis & AUan establishment as a 
 clerk in charge of dry goods. He never had much heart in 
 his work, and John AUan frequently had occasion to find 
 fault, and censure him for inattention to business. During 
 the early years of the firm they handled popular London 
 periodicals, as weU as sheet music. In 1827 whUe that branch 
 of the business was being graduaUy curtailed, because other 
 competing houses had begun to make more of a specialty in 
 that Une, stiU the firm carried a considerable assortment of 
 leading periodicals and songs. Poe's fondness for the upper 
 floor of the buUding where these literary matters were kept 
 was remarked upon long before he left Richmond for col- 
 lege, and it was there that he spent most of his time when 
 he returned, whenever the vigUant eyes of John AUan were 
 not upon him. Poe was fond of music, having both a mu- 
 sical and cultivated voice, and in the earlier years sang 
 frequently; but after his return from coUege showed less vi- 
 vacity, and sang fewer of his favorite songs. It was generally 
 known among his associates that Poe had poetry he ex- 
 pected to have pubUshed in a book, and that some pieces 
 had already appeared in newspapers. He was shy about 
 reciting, or discussing his own poetry, but was familiar with 
 the verse of the popular poets, and occasionaUy would recite 
 some favorite poem to those about the Ellis & AUan store." 
 
APPENDIX 189 
 
 James Gait recalled Poe as a lad of uncommon good ap- 
 pearance, who attracted general attention wherever he went ; 
 that his manners were always cheerfid and gay, and al- 
 though at times reserved, nothing of a morose character was 
 observed in him, until after his return from college. He was 
 known to drink wine a:nd toddies at home, but no excessive 
 appetite for liquor was noticed. Like John Allan, James 
 Gait did not censure Poe's faults at college so much for 
 drinking, as he did gambling, and what he further regarded 
 as a lack of proper respect and obedience on Poe's part for 
 his patron John Allan. It was his impression that Poe was 
 of an impatient disposition from his infancy, being always 
 fond of a change of scene and excitement. He believed 
 that Poe was fully imbued in his early youth with an idea 
 that he would one day become a great writer, and was im- 
 patient to have his writings published, for a try to become 
 famous. It was James Gait's opinion that in order to seek 
 his fortune, and reach London or some great literary centre, 
 Poe had run away from his home in the year 1827. 
 
 The name of Poe has not been found on any pay roll of 
 the Ellis & Allan firm, which is taken as a further proof of the 
 parsimony shown by Allan towards Poe, who doubtless re- 
 ceived his sole pay in board and lodgings. An early reference 
 to Poe in the Ellis- Allan papers is a letter from his aunt Eliza 
 Poe, dated Baltimore (Md.), February 8, 1813, about two 
 years after Poe had been taken into the Allan family. It is 
 addressed to Mrs. Allan, and asks about the welfare of little 
 Edgar. A previous letter from her had met with no response 
 and it would seem that up to that date there had been no 
 intercourse between the two families. Eliza Poe, the writer 
 of this letter, afterwards married Henry Herring. It was her 
 daughter, and Poe's cousin Elizabeth Herring, to whom Poe 
 made love and wrote verses in her album about the year 1832. 
 
190 APPENDIX 
 
 A letter from John Allan to Charles Ellis of May 14, 
 1813, contains the information that "Edgar has caught the 
 whooping caugh." There are small tailor bills during the 
 year 1813-14, for cutting suits for Edgar. A charge of $2, 
 on May 3, 1815, is for making a suit of clothes for Edgar. 
 There is a letter from a Richmond schoolmaster named 
 William Ewing, to John AUan, from which it might be sur- 
 mised thatPoewasa pupil with him during the years 1814-15. 
 In Poe's tale of "The Narrative of A. Gordon Pym " he says: 
 "He sent me at six years of age to the school of old Mr. 
 Ricketts, a gentleman with only one arm, and of eccentric 
 manners. ... I staid at his school until I was sixteen when 
 I left for Mr. E. Ronald's academy on the hill." This in a 
 measure tallies with the location of Poe's schools in Rich- 
 mond and the matter of locality is further clinched by the 
 reference to "on the hill" — a typical Richmond expression 
 in Poe's day for one part of the city. I find that there was a 
 one-armed Richmond school-teacher in Poe's day named 
 "Ricketts,'' and the poet may possibly have gone to his 
 school, or substituted the name for "Ewing." 
 
 A copy of a letter written by John Allan to William Henry 
 Poe, brother of the poet, is dated November i, 1824. At that 
 date Poe was fifteen years old, a member of the Junior 
 Morgan Riflemen, and very likely knew something of the 
 town, as well as the confessed fault of his foster-father John 
 AUan, whom he stated in after years "treated him with as 
 much kindness as his gross nature admitted." This letter of 
 Allan's to Poe's brother reads: "I have just seen your letter 
 of the 25th ult. to Edgar and am much afflicted, that he has 
 not written you. He has had little else to do; for me he 
 does nothing & seems quite miserable, sulky & ill tempered 
 to all the Family — How we have acted to produce this is 
 beyond my conception; why I have put up so long with his 
 
APPENDIX 191 
 
 conduct is less wonderful. The boy possesses not a Spark of 
 affection for us, not a particle of gratitude for all my care 
 and kindness towards him. I have given him a much superior 
 Education than ever I received myself. If Rosalie has to 
 relie on any affection from him God in his mercy preserve 
 her — I fear his associates have led him to adopt a Hne of 
 thinking & acting very contrary to what he possessed in Eng- 
 land. I feel proudly the difference between your principles 
 & his, & hence my desire to Stand as I aught to do in your 
 Estimation. Had I done my duty as faithfully to my God 
 as I have to Edgar — then had Death come when he will, 
 had no terrors for me, but I must end this with a devout wish 
 that God may yet bless him & you & that success may crown 
 all your endeavors & between you your poor sister Rosalie 
 may not suffer. At least she is half your Sister & God for- 
 bid dear Henry that we should visit upon the living the 
 Errors and frailties of the dead. Believe me Dear Henry we 
 take an affectionate interest in your destinies and our United 
 Prayers will be that the God of Heaven will bless & protect 
 you, rely on him my Brave & excellent Boy, who is willing 
 & ready to save to the uttermost. May he keep you in 
 Danger, preserve you always, is the prayer of your Friend 
 & Servant." 
 
 This letter shows that the strife between John Allan and 
 Poe, which was to end in the latter leaving home a few years 
 later, had now surely started. When Poe's mother died in 
 Richmond John Allan took charge of the few effects she left, 
 including a packet of old letters. Some of these letters are 
 said to have let out a skeleton in the Poe family closet. Poe 
 was known to have had these letters, and at his death they 
 passed to Mrs. Clemm, his aunt and mother-in-law. She 
 hinted of dark family troubles that had worried "Eddie,'' as 
 she called Poe, but believed that in destroying the letters 
 
192 APPENDIX 
 
 before she died, all knowledge of the matters had been 
 blotted out. 
 
 It is to be noted that Allan was careful to keep a copy of 
 his letter, possibly to show Poe, fearing that he was telling 
 tales in Baltimore, like at home. With Poe's knowledge of 
 Allan's fault it is an impression that Allan held over him 
 his own family secret in order to keep him quiet. This 
 charge of Allan's, if true, might have been the cause for the 
 alleged desertion of Poe's father from the family. The mat- 
 ter alluded to in Allan's letter seems to have been known 
 and talked about by others intimate in the Allan household, 
 and William MacKenzie, a patron of Rosalie Poe, wrongfully 
 accused. 
 
 A number of entries and notes among the papers have 
 reference to John Allan's departure on the ship "Lothair" 
 for Europe June 22, 1815, accompanied by his wife, her sis- 
 ter Miss Ann M. Valentine and Edgar. Among the entries 
 is shown the purchase of one "Olive Branch," one "Mur- 
 ray's Reader," and two "Murray's Spellers," all likely in- 
 tended for Edgar's use on the voyage. 
 
 A letter brought back by the pilot boat to Norfolk showed 
 that the water trip had already proved a severe trial to the 
 women folks, but it added, "Ned cares but little about it, 
 poor fellow." Another Allan letter is dated Liverpool, July 
 29, 1815, giving an account of the trip across the Atlantic, 
 and states that "Edgar was a little sick, but had recovered." 
 A letter of Allan's dated Greenock, September 21, 1815, has 
 in it, "Edgar says. Pa: Say something for me; say I was not 
 afraid coming across the sea." Allan in another letter dated 
 Blake's Hotel, London, October 10, 1815, announces the 
 arrival of the family there on the 7th, by way of- Glasgow^ 
 Newcastle and Sheffield, also mentioning the attractions of 
 the Scotland trip as "high in all respects." 
 
APPENDIX 193 
 
 In a letter -written by Allan, dated October 15, 1815, from 
 his residence in Southampton Row, London, the family are 
 represented as "seated before a snug fire in a nice little 
 sitting parlour with Edgar reading a little story book." 
 A pathetic reminder of Poe's earliest childish romance is a 
 message in a letter from his first little sweetheart, Catherine 
 Poitiaux, the god-child of the first Mrs. Allan, mentioned 
 in the memoir to this volume. She said: "Give my love to 
 Edgar and tell him I want to see him very much. I expect 
 Edgar does not know what to make of such a large city as 
 London. Tell him Josephine [Miss Poitiaux's younger sis- 
 ter] and all the children want to see him." In the Phila- ■ 
 delphia Saturday Museum sketch of Poe's life he had it stated 
 that only a portion of his five years' stay in London was 
 spent at the school of the Rev. Dr. John Bransby. There 
 remain documents to substantiate this. He also attended 
 the boarding school of the Misses Dubourg at 146 Sloan 
 Street, Chelsea, London. In his tale of "The Murders in the 
 Rue Morgue," Poe has a character named Pauline Dubourg. 
 The documents show that he was a pupil there from about 
 April, 1816, until probably early in December, 1817. He was 
 at Bransby's school from the autumn of 1817 until the sum- 
 mer of 1820 when he returned to America, as is also shown 
 by documents. This leaves a hiatus of some months in his 
 school history. The references of Poe to Rev. Dr. John 
 Bransby have been questioned, as no degree of doctor has 
 yet been found. It is presumed that if there was no aca- 
 demical degree for the title, it was erroneously used during 
 Poe's day, and that it was Poe's belief that Bransby was 
 entitled to be called doctor. There are a number of refer- 
 ences to "Edgar " and his schoohng abroad in Allan's let- 
 ters, and one dated June 22, 1818, says: "Edgar is both able 
 and willing to receive instructions," which might infer that 
 
194 APPENDIX 
 
 Poe's earlier dispositions in these respects were not so 
 amiable. The papers show that Poe with the family arrived 
 at New York on July 21, 1820, after a passage of thirty-six 
 days, and reached Richmond, Virginia, on the 2d of August 
 following. 
 
 There are bills for Edgar's schooling at Richmond to both 
 Masters Joseph H. Clarke and William Burke during the 
 years 1821-24. The few charges for money given to Poe in 
 his youth warrant the belief that Allan's allowances were 
 always restricted. There are entries for less than a dozen 
 small amounts for postage charged against both Poe and 
 his sister Rosalie. In January, 1825, $8.50 is charged for 
 "Edgar's clothes." 
 
 There remain letters and bills to substantiate the 
 charge made that Allan's allowances to Poe at college were 
 inadequate for his needs. There are also other bills besides 
 "debts of honor " Allan refused to pay, among them a bill 
 from S. Leitch, Jr., for haberdashery amounting to $68.46. 
 Two letters from G. W. Spotswood dated in April and May, 
 1827, are addressed to Allan, urging settlement of a bill for 
 servant attendance to Poe's room at the University of Vir- 
 ginia; another letter from E. G. Crump of March 25, 1827, 
 relates to money matters not a debt of honor. It is addressed 
 to Poe and was evidently received by Allan after Poe had 
 left Richmond on his ocean trip towards Europe. The letter 
 is endorsed on the back, presumably by Allan, "To E. A. 
 Poe, alias Henri Le Renndt." This is thought to have been 
 the name Poe used on his first trip from Richmond in the 
 year 1827. It should seem that Allan about the time of the re- 
 ceipt of this letter had in some manner learned of Poe's where- 
 abouts, or had seen one of his first letters written to Mrs. 
 Allan. In a copy of a letter from Allan to his sister in Scot- 
 land dated March 27tb, he wrote: "I am thinking Edgar has 
 
APPENDIX 195 
 
 gone to sea to seek his fortune." There is a signed order in 
 the handwriting of John Allan dated March 4, 1828, as fol- 
 lows: "Mr. Ellis. Please to furnish Edgar A. Poe with a suit 
 of clothes, 3 pair socks, or thread Hose. McCrery will make 
 them, also a pair of suspenders, and Hat & knife, pair of 
 gloves." An entry in the Ellis Journal under date of March 3, 
 1829, is against John Allan. Pr. order to "E.A.P." for just 
 about what the preceding order called for, or the palpable er- 
 ror in the date of Allan's order might make it appear as if Poe 
 had been in Richmond during the year 1828. In the Journal 
 entry it is also further shown that the clothes were eventually 
 made by McCrery. Allan was no doubt disturbed by the 
 death of his wife and wrote the year date of 1828 by mistake. 
 It has been stated that Poe arrived in Richmond after the 
 funeral of his foster-mother, Mrs. Allan, who died February 
 28, 1829. It is mentioned in an official army letter that Poe 
 was granted a leave of absence about this period, but the rec- 
 ord has not been found. The testimony of James Gait, how- 
 ever, now clears up this matter, and what he tells is borne 
 out by the burial records of Mrs. Allan. James Gait stated 
 that "Poe was at the funeral, and that the final burial was 
 delayed untU his arrival in Richmond. It was the dying 
 wish of Mrs. Allan that she take Poe once again in her arms 
 before she died, and that in the event she passed away before 
 his arrival, that she would not be buried until he saw her." 
 The scene of Poe's arrival at the house is depicted as most 
 harrowing, as well as great sorrow shown afterwards by Poe 
 at his foster-mother's grave in Shockoe Cemetery. 
 
 Among other books at one time with the Ellis-Allan ef- 
 fects, now in my possession, is a large day-book containing 
 the transactions of Pumfrey & Fitzwhylsown, old-time sta- 
 tioners and bookbinders of Richmond, Virginia, dating from 
 April, 1804, to August, 1805. This contains interesting early 
 
196 APPENDIX 
 
 items, among them one, dated April 12, 1804: "John W. 
 Green (Comedian) To half binding a book of playbills, 
 4/6"; another of June 27, same year, is "Mr. Hopkins, 
 (Comedian), To Black lead pencil, /i." These entries as well 
 as the fact of the volume being among the Ellis- Allan effects, 
 led me to believe that the book must have been the property 
 of Poe. It looked like an effort on the part of Poe, mentioned 
 by him later to Judge R. W. Hughes, to trace his own early 
 history. That hke his brother, William Henry Poe, he knew 
 little concerning the career or final end of his father, David 
 Poe, Jr., seems evident, for while he had possession of his 
 mother's letters and papers, he had not so much as an auto- 
 graph of his father's. This is shown by an unpublished man- 
 uscript letter written by Poe to Joseph H. Hedges, dated 
 Philadelphia, November 16, 1843, as follows: "I presume 
 the request you make, in your note of the 14th, has refer- 
 ence to my grandfather Gen. David Poe, and not to my 
 father David Poe, Jr. I regret to say, however, that, owing 
 to peculiar circumstances, I have in my possession no auto- 
 graph of either." The entries about the "Green Players" 
 in the old day-book seemed to be an index to the early ca- 
 reer of Poe's father, and further investigation verified this 
 conclusion. It has hitherto been the impression of aU Poe's 
 biographers that David Poe, Jr., played upon the Charleston 
 (S.C.) stage about December, 1803, and that he began his 
 theatrical engagement with the "Green Players," including 
 Mrs. Hopkins, his future wife, at Petersburg, Virginia, in 
 November, 1804. The old day-book showed, at least, that 
 the " Green Players '' were in Richmond during the year 
 1804, and from that data I was able to lighten up the dark 
 period in the life of David Poe, Jr., from the spring of 1804 
 until the following November. It should appear that Poe's 
 father left Charleston at the end of the spring season there, 
 
APPENDIX 197 
 
 if not earlier, and at once joined the company Oi the " Green 
 Players." The Virginia Gazette of June 30, 1804, has David 
 Poe, Jr., with this company in the cast of " Speed the Plow," 
 as "Hewey," and the same paper of July 25 following gives 
 him in the play of the "Heir at Law" in the character of 
 "Henry Moreland." So it is conclusive that not only the 
 "Green Players," including Mrs. Hopkins, Poe's mother, 
 but his father David Poe, Jr., performed upon the Richmond 
 stage during the year 1804. This is the earliest found record 
 of Poe's father in Richmond. The theatrical company left 
 Richmond and are on record at Petersburg, November 3-20, 
 1804. The company were at Norfolk, March 19-June 12 
 following, and the Virginia Gazette of August 28, 1805, states 
 that "Mrs. Hopkins and other members of the Charleston 
 theatre made a one night stop over at Richmond, on the 
 way to the Federal city." There is a recent hint of David 
 Poe, Jr., in Scotland, where it is said that he ran away to 
 America with a pretty blonde married woman named Wil- 
 son. The story shows Edgar Allan Poe as, later on, meeting 
 in school at Irvine, Scotland, with a son of this Mrs. Wilson; 
 one of those "wise children who know their own father," 
 and named after the injured husband, William Wilson. 
 This boy is presumed to have been the hero of Poe's later 
 well-known tale called "William Wilson." Mr. R. M. Hogg, 
 of Irvine, Scotland, vouches for the facts, as told to him by 
 the descendants of the Wilson family. I heard previous hints 
 of a runaway escapade of Poe's father, but the woman's 
 name was mentioned as Thomas. A reference to this matter 
 will be found in G. E. Woodberry's revised Life of Poe, vol. 
 i, p. 368. An entry in the Ellis-Allan papers under date of 
 January 8, and another of May 12, 1830, show that Allan 
 rendered assistance to Poe. The later entry was for blankets, 
 probably for Poe's use at the West Point Academy. 
 
198 APPENDIX 
 
 Most important among the Ellis-Allan papers are a num- 
 ber of manuscripts in Poe's own hand. As he wrote F. W. 
 Thomas later in life, that nothing could seduce him from the 
 noble profession of Uterature, these also indicate that his 
 mind at the time was strongly bent towards a career in the 
 world of letters. The documents are browned by age and 
 written upon paper similar to that used by the firm of Ellis 
 & Allan about the year 1827. 
 
 A manuscript entirely in Poe's autograph called "Hope," 
 is copied from Goldsmith's " Song from the Oratorio of the 
 Captivity." This should show the trend of Poe's thought at 
 the time it was written, and its influence upon his later 
 writings. Another manuscript is a copy of an early song 
 called "Ally Croaker." In this song Poe may have gained 
 some of his later conceptions of the repetend'in his poetry. 
 The idea in these lines of a pawned coat losing a lady love, 
 with some gambling and drinking episodes, show a parody 
 on Poe's own self about the time they were copied. In them 
 he also shows an early fondness for reconstructing verse to 
 suit his own taste, having made alterations from the original 
 construction of the song. The original song Poe copied from 
 was probably found by him among the early collection, then 
 in the possession of the firm of Ellis & Allan. 
 
 On a strip of paper, much in his usual later manner, and in 
 a handwriting closely approximating his well-known later day 
 autograph, Poe copied verses on "The Burial of Sir John 
 Moore" and "Extract from Byron's Dream.'' As if he had 
 intended to send the copy of "The Burial of Sir John Moore" 
 to some periodical, Poe headed his paper, "The Soldier's 
 Burial," and wrote the following lines which remain as Poe's 
 first known criticism: "These verses have been often and 
 justly admired as the only original essay on so hackney 'd a 
 subject as a Burial which has appeared for a long time — 
 
APPENDIX 199 
 
 They are on the burial of Sir John Moore — Much dispute 
 has arisen concerning the writer of this really elegant & orig- 
 inal production, Moore, Campbell, Scott & Byron have all 
 been mentioned as the supposed writers. It has since been 
 pretty well ascertained to be Byron — As for the piece it- 
 self it is inimitable. The poet — the Patriot, and the man 
 of feeling breathes thro' the whole, and a strain of originality 
 gives zest to this little piece, which is seldom felt on the 
 perusal of others of the same kind." 
 
 This criticism tends to show Poe at that period a close 
 reader of the periodical literature of the day, and that he 
 knew this poem had been ascribed to Moore, Campbell and 
 Scott, and finally believed to be Byron's. That he was not ' 
 aware at the moment that it was written by the Rev. Charles 
 Wolfe is not to be wondered at, for Medwin in his delightful 
 Journal of the Conversations 0} Lord Byron tells of Byron's 
 praise of this gem, and how he himself had thought that it 
 was Byron's own verse. It was only in a later edition of 
 his book that Medwin told of his discovery of the name of 
 the real author. < 
 
 There has hitherto been much guessing at the sources for 
 Foe's extraordinary learning, which was not only varied, 
 but thorough. In his "Marginalia" notes may be noted 
 the thoughtful man of letters, and in them is also to be de- 
 tected signs of Poe's own education. It had been supposed 
 that Poe discovered his critical capacity for the first time 
 while engaged on the Southern Literary Messenger. The 
 criticism on "The Burial of Sir John Moore," however, 
 shows a knowledge and indications of earlier handling of 
 some necessary critical apparatus in literature. Poe's studies 
 among the periodicals and songs at the Ellis & Allan es- 
 tablishment go far towards establishing conclusive proof, 
 not only of the beginning of his scholastic habit, but his im- 
 
200 APPENDIX 
 
 conscious education in the critical line, from the mere love 
 of it. 
 
 There is to be found in the Ellis & Allan firm record among 
 the periodicals kept by them, and such as Poe likely con- 
 sulted, the London Critical Review or Annals of Literature, 
 for the years 1 79 1 to 1 803 , bound in thirty-nine volumes, and 
 the Ladies Magazine, London, for that period, bound in 
 thirty volumes. 
 
 On the same strip of paper with the criticism of "The 
 Burial of Sir John Moore," Poe continued the Byron lines. 
 He wrote the caption, "Lord Byron's Last Poem," which 
 he afterwards ran his pen through, and substituted, "Ex- 
 tract from Byron's Dream." He commenced his lines from 
 "Byron's Dream" at the beginning of Canto VI. and fol- 
 lowed the text along closely into Canto VII. where it reads, 
 
 A change came over the spirit of his dream. 
 The lady of his love — oh, she was changed 
 As by the sickness of 
 
 Poe stopped right there. It was eighteen years afterwards 
 when Poe in a magazine article on "B}Ton and Mary Cha- 
 worth," wrote the following: "'The Dream,' in which the 
 incident of his parting with her when about to travel, and 
 said to be delineated or at least paralleled, has never been 
 excelled (certainly never excelled by him) in the blended 
 fervor, dehcacy, truthfvdness and ethereaUty which subUme 
 and adorn it." 
 
 It is the supposition that in writing the early copy of the 
 "Dream" verses Poe likened his own sad love aflEairs at that 
 time to Byron's, and on a sudden impulse stopped, as ap- 
 pears above, and improvised and wrote on another sheet of 
 paper the original verses, "The Vital Stream," which have 
 now been first collected into his poems in this volume. It 
 is to be lamented that the original manuscript of this poem 
 
APPENDIX 201 
 
 has disappeared from among the Ellis-Allan papers at the 
 Library of Congress. It is thought that the wind carried it 
 into a waste-paper basket at the library, and that it was 
 destroyed. There is, however, shght hope that it may yet 
 come to light in the collection. 
 
 That Poe's poem "An Enigma " appeared anonjrmously 
 in the Philadelphia Casket for May, 1827, bears out the 
 statement of James Gait that Poe's poetry found publica- 
 tion at that period. It should also seem Poe's habit from 
 that year to send out his writings anonymously. As is 
 mentioned in the memoir to this volume, Poe was writing 
 for the Philadelphia newspapers about the year 1832. 
 
 There appears without name in the Philadelphia Satur- 
 day Courier for the year 1832, the following well-known 
 tales by Poe: "Metzengerstein," January 14; "Due de 
 I'Omelette," March 3; "A Tale of Jerusalem," June 9; 
 "Loss of Breath," entitled "A Decided Loss," November 10, 
 and "Bon-Bon," called "The Bargain Lost," December i. 
 There also appears in this same paper for October 14, 1843, 
 "Raising the Wind, or Diddling considered as one of the 
 Exact Sciences." 
 
 VI 
 
 POE EST SCOTLAND' 
 
 The visits of Poe to Scotland must have left vivid marks 
 of remembrance upon his memory of that classic region of 
 which so many scenes and incidents are sketched with 
 truth and beauty, Poe arrived at Liverpool with the Allan 
 
 • Acknowledgment is due R. M. Hogg, Esq., of Irvine, Scotland, for valu- 
 able assistance in obtaining many facts connected with Poe's trip into Scotland. 
 Some portions of this account of Poe's visits into Scotland by the writer were 
 published in the September, 1916, New York Bookman. 
 
202 APPENDIX 
 
 family in the latter part of the year 1815, and proceeded 
 at once to Scotland, to visit the Allan relatives. While the 
 visit was partly one of pleasure, AUan was about to estab- 
 lish a branch of his business in London with tobacco as a 
 main staple. He had important trade connections to make 
 in Scotland, besides the pleasure of meeting again with his 
 kinsfolk and wandering about the scenes of his youth. 
 
 The first journey was to Irvine, Ayrshire, the birthplace of 
 John Allan, where Poe and the Allan family stopped with a 
 spinster sister of Allan's named Mary Allan. There lived 
 at Irvine at that time other near relatives of Allan's named 
 " Gait." Among them was James Gait, then under fifteen 
 years of age, who afterwards came to America with the AUan 
 family when they returned home in 1820. Young Gait was 
 a relative of William Gait of Richmond, an uncle to John 
 Allan, who assisted the Ellis & Allan firm financially, and 
 from whom Allan later obtained a large legacy. The uncle, 
 as is shown by his letters among the Ellis-Allan papers, was 
 not in accord with Allan's conduct in London, and it looks 
 as if James Gait was about the London business establish- 
 ment to keep him fully informed of Allan's doings. After 
 James Gait's arrival in Richmond, this uncle took good care 
 for his future. He finally settled on the James River above 
 Richmond, in Virginia, and was the progenitor of the well- 
 known family of Goldsboroughs of Maryland. 
 
 He lived to a ripe old age, and a son named after Allan, 
 Major John Allan Gait, left interesting reminiscences of his 
 father, which throw important new lights upon Poe's early 
 career. 
 
 Irvine is a seaport twenty-three miles from Glasgow, and 
 at the time of Poe's visit differed somewhat from the present 
 day. There is an illustration showing the town about 1780, 
 and in it is to be seen the dwelling where John Allan was bom. 
 
APPENDIX 203 
 
 while opposite is a house where Henry Eckford, the con- 
 structor of the American Navy of 1812, also first saw the 
 light. 
 
 At the head of the old Kirkgate was the ancient grammar 
 school where Allan was educated, it is said, with his relative 
 John Gait the novelist, and Henry Eckford. The school was 
 a continuation of the Pre-Reformation school in connection 
 with the church. The old school building was taken down in 
 1816, and a new academy erected. There is a possibility 
 that Poe had the old Irvine school building in his mind while 
 writing his description of the ancient school in his tale of 
 "William Wilson," or at least made a composite picture of 
 it with his recollections of the school at Stoke Newington, 
 England, better known as "Bransby's." 
 
 It was John Allan's early intention to have Poe remain 
 at this school while abroad for his education, but his wife 
 demurred and Poe was also opposed to being left so far away 
 from his foster-mother. 
 
 In the same square with the Allan house in Irvine, was 
 "Templeton's" book-shop, where Burns the poet delighted 
 to browse among old sheets of song. It was in the year 1781 
 that Burns went to Irviije to learn flax dressing, and the old 
 shop stands within a stone's throw of where John Allan was 
 born. The well-known incidents in John Gait's "Annals of 
 the Parish" are taken from the old town of Irvine. The Ir- 
 vine burial-ground is situated on a rise of a bank of the river 
 Irvine, and alongside the parish church. There all the Allan 
 ancestors are buried. The Allan section adjoins that of 
 "Dainty Davie," the friend of Burns. Here Poe could have 
 acquired much of his early impressions of a grave-yard, since 
 the death of his own mother. The first grave-yard he 
 probably ever entered was the historic St. John's at Rich- 
 mond, Virginia, where Patrick Henry delivered his pa- 
 
204 APPENDIX 
 
 triotic address, and where it is now definitely ascertained 
 Poe's mother is buried. The Irvine church-yard was the 
 second, and the third, "Shockoe Cemetery," at Richmond, 
 Virgusia, where pleasant legends relate that he kept vigils 
 with the spirit of his first departed " Helen." It is certain that 
 Poe was fond of visiting this latter grave-yard, and that he 
 was not only about the grave of Mrs. Stanard, his "Helen," 
 but also that of Mrs. Allan, his foster-mother, who in re- 
 ality may have been the original of Poe's "Helen." 
 
 "Of all melancholy topics," Poe once asked himself, 
 " what according to the imiversal understanding of mankind, 
 is the most melancholy? " " Death ! " was the obvious reply. 
 
 There was much about the old Scotch kirk-yard at Irvine 
 to inspire Poe with awe, and with his love for the odd, the 
 rhyming tombstones, and the " dregy, " or lengthy funeral 
 services must have left lasting impressions on his mind. The 
 epitaphs on the tombstones there are most original and in 
 the olden time the grammar school scholars are said to have 
 been required to write some of them out for their examina- 
 tions. In Irvine near the printing office of the erratic Max- 
 well Dick, was a house where Dr. Robinson, the poet 
 preacher, lodged. Here one day the well-known writer De 
 Quincey came from Glasgow to visit him, but unfortunately 
 the genial doctor was out. The canny Scot's landlady took 
 De Quincey, with a suspicious looking volume under his arm, 
 to be a book-canvasser, and would not permit him to come 
 in and aw:ait the doctor's return. De Quincey in high dud- 
 geon returned to the station, and went back to Glasgow. 
 On his way to and from the station De Quincey had to pass 
 the house where Poe stopped. 
 
 In this connection it might be recalled that Poe later on 
 proved an admirer of De Quincey, whose declamatory inter- 
 polations may be detected in his writings, especially in the 
 
THE FOWLDS HOUSE, KILMARNOCK, SCOTLAND, 
 WHERE POE STAYED 
 
 WHERE POE WENT TO SCHOOL, AT IRVINE, SCOTLAND 
 
APPENDIX 205 
 
 tale of " William Wilson." While at Irvine Poe lived at the 
 Bridgegate house. It was a two-story tenement dwelling 
 owned by the Allan family, and taken down about thirty 
 years ago to make room for a street improvement. After 
 leaving Irvine, Poe with the Allans went to Kihnamock, 
 about seven miles distant from Irvine. He remained there 
 about two weeks and stopped with another of Allan's sisters 
 named Agnes, but called Nancy, who married a nurseryman 
 named Allan Fowlds. The site of the old nursery is now 
 Fowlds, Clark and Prince Streets. The house in which Poe 
 lodged ^as a small affair and stood on the present site of 
 the building occupied by the Kilmarnock Standard. A house 
 opposite was occupied by a family named Gregory, who per- 
 fectly remembered the visit of John Allan and his family, 
 with little Edgar Poe. In the rear of the Fowlds house ran 
 the grounds of "Kilmarnock House," the residence of Lord 
 Kilmarnock, executed for his share in the '45 Rebellion. 
 There stood nearby a large grove of trees and a beautiful 
 walkway where the lord's widow passed much of her time 
 after his death. Here is also what was once called the " Ghost 
 walk," and there the lord's widow might be seen after sun- 
 down in her pensive perambulations, alone, and sometimes 
 in company with her murdered husband. No doubt Poe had 
 heard of this incident, and perchance looked himself for 
 what they called the "allagrugous bawsy-broon," or the 
 ghastly, grim hobgoblin. 
 
 Nelson Street extended by a crooked lane to the cross of 
 Kilmarnock, in the croon of which was the shop where Burns' 
 first edition of his poems was issued. The town exhibits 
 relics of Burns, and was formerly noted for its manufacture 
 of "Kilmarnock cowles." 
 
 One end of Nelson Street led to the old Irvine road, and a 
 number of visits to and from Irvine were made by Allan dur- 
 
206 APPENDIX 
 
 ing his stay, on which occasions Poe invariably accompanied 
 him. The old red riding carts then abounded about Irvine 
 and Kilmarnock, with their creaking wheels, and are said to 
 have had a special attraction for Poe. He was most con- 
 tented in one of them, sitting alongside the driver, usually 
 attired in coarse woolen doth "green duffle apron," and 
 thick nap "red kUmamock cap." Close to the Fowlds 
 house in Kihnarnock lived William Anderson, an intimate 
 neighbor of the family. His son James Anderson died 
 December 26, 1887, aged 84 years. In early life he was an 
 accountant in the Union Bank and for a long period audi- 
 tor for the corporation of Kilmarnock, as well as chairman 
 of the Bellfield Trust. He had vivid recollections of Poe's 
 visit to Kilmarnock, and spoke with pride of having played 
 in the streets of the town with Poe. He recalled Poe as 
 "much petted by the Allans, and a ' carmudgeon,' or for- 
 ward, quick-witted boy, but very self-willed." 
 
 Poe went from Kilmarnock with the Allans to Greenock, 
 situated on the Clyde. From there he went to Glasgow, 
 thence to Edinburgh, and also stopped at Newcastle and 
 Sheffield, landing with the Allans at London October 7,1815. 
 
 There are many persons now living in Irvine who have had 
 the statement handed down to them from their ancestors 
 that Edgar Allan Poe attended the old Irvine grammar 
 school. This is now confirmed by the reminiscences of James 
 Gait, although the stay of Poe there must have been brief. 
 It was Allan's intention to leave Poe at the school when he 
 visited the town, but the women members of the family as 
 well as Poe objected and a compromise was effected by 
 allowing Poe to finish out the Scotland pleasure trip, with 
 an understanding that he was later to accompany James 
 Gait back from London, to the Irvine school. 
 
 The exact time of this second trip is not mentioned, but 
 
APPENDIX 207 
 
 there are several gaps in Poe's school record. It is presiimed 
 that the visit must have been towards the close of the year 
 1815. James Gait said that there were pleadings from the 
 women folks as well as Poe, of "not to go," when the time 
 came to depart for Scotland. It was the opinion, however, 
 that Poe would be better satisfied after settling down there 
 and out of the sight of the home folks. The start on the part 
 of Poe was unwilling, and Gait said he kept up "an imceas- 
 ing fuss all the way over." His aunt Mary, as he called Miss 
 Allan, sent him to the school, but there he sulked, and no 
 manner of coaxing or threats could induce Viim to attempt 
 any studies. 
 
 At Miss Allan's home he talked boldly about returning 
 back to England alone. She feared that he might try to 
 carry out this threat and had young Gait remain at her 
 home on guard over Poe. He slept in the same room with 
 Poe in the Bridgegate house at Irvine; was impressed with 
 Poe's old-faShioned talk for one so young, and like Miss 
 Allan he believed that if Poe had not been restrained he 
 would have attempted the trip back to England alone. Gait 
 said Poe's self-reHance and total absence of fear impressed 
 him then, and up to the time he left John Allan's home. 
 
 Poe showed no inclinations to become satisfied with his 
 surroundings at Irvine, and in many ways made it unpleasant 
 for aunt Mary Allan; so much so that she finally packed up 
 his "duds," as Gait said, and sent him back to London. 
 
 This Scotland and other school episodes in Poe's life 
 possibly account for his own statements of unhappy school- 
 boy days. 
 
 When Poe published his tale, the "M. Valdemar Case," 
 a druggist at Stonehaven, Scotland, named A. Ramsay, to 
 make sure the story was true wrote a letter to Poe. This 
 letter of Ramsay's to Poe has been published, but no reply 
 
208 APPENDIX 
 
 of Poe's has appeared in book fonn, until now, although a 
 mention and its date was made in the first edition of this 
 volume. A nephew of Ramsay's stiU occupies the old Stone- 
 haven warehouse. He had many of his relative's letters, but 
 none from Poe. The search, however, was continued among 
 other relatives, and Poe's letter finally brought to light. It 
 is interesting in connection with the story of Poe's visits to 
 Scotland. The letter reads : — 
 
 New Yokk, December 30, '46. 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 Hoax w precisely the word suited to M. Valdemar Case. 
 The story appeared originally in the "American Review," 
 a monthly magazine published in this dty. The London 
 papers, commencing with the "Morning Post" and the 
 "Popular Record of Science," took up the theme. The 
 article was generally copied in England and is now cir- 
 culating in France. Some few persons believe it — but I 
 don't — and don't you. 
 
 Very Resp'y, yr. Ob St. 
 
 Edgar A. Poe 
 
 P.S. I have some relatives, I think, in Stonehaven, of the 
 name of Allan, who again are connected with the Allan's 
 and Gait's of Kilmarnock. My name is Edgar Allan Poe. 
 Do you know any of them? If so, and it would not put you 
 to too much trouble, I would like it as a favor if you could 
 give me some account of the family. 
 
 The postscript to this letter written at so late a date reads 
 a bit odd. It is said, however, that Poe felt bitterly to the end 
 that Allan should have brought him up and educated him 
 as an only diild, until he had reached the advanced age of 
 fifteen years, and then turn suddenly against him and make 
 him feel as a menial instead of a member of the family. The 
 
a 
 w 
 
 o 
 
 O H 
 
 X X 
 
 < 
 
 O W 
 
 w s 
 
 o W 
 
 S '^ 
 
 o 
 
 K 
 W" 
 
 w 
 
 H 
 H 
 
APPENDIX 209 
 
 relatives of Allan in Scotland have stated that Allan, while 
 on his visit to them, made the statement that after providing 
 for his wife and Edgar it was his intention to leave the re- 
 mainder of his estate to relatives in Scotland. Foe in the 
 Pkiladdphia Saturday Museum sketch of the year 1843 had 
 it stated that Allan made it a practice in the early days to 
 tell every one that he intended to make him his heir. In a 
 letter to Poe's brother Allan mentioned doing "his duty 
 towards Edgar," but near his death he is said to have had 
 doubts in the matter. 
 
 VII 
 
 POE'S REVISION OF OTHERS' POETRY 
 
 The F. W. Thomas Recollections of E. A. Foe states that 
 the poetry written in part, and revised by Poe for others 
 in his lifetime, if known and collected, would make a re- 
 spectable volume. Mrs. Shew is the only contemporary of 
 Poe's, who has given any hint of collaboration with Poe in 
 the making of any poetry. But Mrs. Shew had no poetical 
 ambitions, or, perhaps, like Chivers and the others, she 
 might have claimed "The Bells " as her own production. 
 
 The letters of Poe to Mrs. Whitman, at least, show that 
 she sought his criticisms and corrections of her poetry. It 
 remains a question, however, as to how many of her poems 
 besides "To Arcturus" Poe revised. There is also little way 
 to find out now what literary aid Poe rendered Mrs. Ellet, 
 Mrs, Osgood, and the balance of the literary coterie who 
 surrounded and flattered him in order to obtain his favors. 
 
 The most persistent of the female poets who followed Poe 
 about and endeavored by her arts to gain his assistance to 
 help her mount the pinnacles of Parnassus was Mrs. Lewis. 
 Her baptismal name was "Sarah Anna," but she adopted 
 
210 APPENDIX 
 
 that of "Estelle " as more aesthetic. Poe wrote an enigma to 
 her as "Sarah Anna," but afterwards, to please her, called 
 her "Stella." 
 
 ' There remains a note of Poe's, and his corrections of some 
 poetry of "Stella's," which forms a striking illustration of 
 literary labors performed by Poe, into which the general 
 reader has had little insight. In returning Mrs. Lewis a 
 manuscript copy of her lines entitled "The Prisoner of 
 Perote," Poe wrote her as follows: — 
 
 "Dear Mrs. Lewis, 
 
 Upon the whole I think this- the most spirited poem you 
 have written. If I were you, I would retain all the prose 
 prefix. You will observe that I have taken the liberty of 
 making some suggestions in the body of the poem — the 
 force of which, I think, would be miich increased by the in- 
 troduction of an occasional short line, for example: — 
 
 Hurtled by the blast. 
 Sadly fell his eye. 
 Heard her shrieks of wo. 
 As now they flock to Rome. 
 And to Palestine. 
 Woke him from his dream. 
 And God will guide thy bark. 
 And the sun will shine. 
 Is a throne to me. 
 Pours a Paradise. 
 Sheds its holy light. 
 Will I cling to thee. 
 
 These short lines should be indented — as for instance: — 
 So, to cheer thy desolation. 
 Will I cling to thee." 
 
 The alterations shown in the following poem are Poe's and 
 although evidently made hastily they make an improve- 
 ment in the verses. 
 
APPENDIX 211 
 
 THE PRISONER OF PEROTfi 
 
 In the Prison of Perots 
 
 Silently the Warrior sate, 
 iriVA. j^is eye bent sadly downward, 
 
 Like one stricken sore by Fate; 
 
 Broken visions of his Glory 
 
 Before his Spirit paa a cd , Quick before his spirit passed 
 
 Like clouds acro o o tfa a-jfea^aa- Athwart the summer 
 HurUedf. .- Driven onwa r4 by the Blast. Heaven. 
 
 suUitif^^ The booming of the Cannon, 
 
 And the clash of blade and spear — 
 " Death — death, unto the Tyrant! " 
 
 Still v/ere ringing in his ear. 
 
 Much he sorrowed for the people, 
 
 For whose weal he fain would die — 
 
 On the Tablets of the Future, 
 
 Sadly bent hie mantnl oy o i - fell his eye 
 
 There he saw his weeping country 
 
 Close beleaguered' by the foe; 
 
 He saw her chained ond bloodingi faint and Ueeding 
 
 -He- heard, her shiieks of Wo; 
 ward,^ From the East and-lf^ the Westward 
 
 Be^ The r e beheld the Pilgrims come 
 
 A 
 
 To ponder o'c? hoj Ruino, To muse upon her ivied ruins 
 As now they flock to Rome; 
 
 Well he weighed the fate of Nations', 
 Weill A^*'^''' S'^'y and. their shame, 
 Well A /vThe fleetness of all Power, 
 WelU AThe emptiness of Fame; 
 WelL /rhe wasting wrecks of Empires 
 
 ■ That choke Timc-' s rapid at f cani) Choking Tim^s 
 Till Beauty with Till Beauty 'a gentle whiapera impatient stream 
 
 her senile Woke him from his dream. -" 
 
 whispers 
 
NOTES 
 
 AND 
 
 VARIORUM TEXT 
 
 OF THE POEMS 
 
NOTES AND VARIORUM TEXT 
 
 OF THE POEMS 
 
 The sources of the text for E. A. Poe's poems are the editions pub- 
 lished by him in 1827, 1829, 1831, and 1845; the manuscripts of poems in 
 Poe's own hand; copy of 1829 Poems with corrections made in Poe's 
 hand; the magazines and newspapers to which he contributed poems, 
 viz. : — 
 
 The yankee and Boston Literary Gazette ; The Philadelphia Casket ; Thf 
 Baltimore Saturday Morning Visiter ; Richmond Southern Literary Mes- 
 senger; Godey's Lady's Book; Baltimore American Museum; Burton's 
 Gentleman's Magazine; Graham's Magazine; Philadelphia Saturday Mu- 
 seum ; Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post ; The New York Evening Mirror ; 
 New York Broadway Journal; New York Literary Emporium; New York 
 American Whig Review; The London Critic; New York Missionary Me- 
 morial; New York Literary World; New York Home Journal; Sartain's 
 Union Magazine ; New York Union Magazine ; Boston Flag of Our Union; 
 New York Tribune; Philadelphia Leaflets of Memory; Richmond Exam- 
 iner; Richmond Whig; Griswold's 1850 poems and "Poets and Poetry 
 of America," 1842 and 1855. The manuscript sources superior to the 
 texts are the J. Lorimer Graham copy of the 184s poems, with correc- 
 tions in Poe's hand, and the F. W. Thomas manuscript Recollections 
 of E. A. Poe, with poems contributed to the Richmond Examiner, cor- 
 rected in proof in Poe's hand shortly before his death. 
 
 The editions of Poems issued by Poe were: — 
 
 1827 
 
 TAMERLANE / AND / OTHER POEMS / BY A BOSTONIAN 
 Young heads are giddy, and young hearts are warm, 
 And make mistakes for manhood to reform. — Cowpee. 
 Boston./ CALVIN F. S. THOMAS . . . PRINTER / 1827 
 Collation : Title, p. i; verso blank, p. 2; Preface, pp. 3-4; TAMER- 
 LANE, pp. S-21; verso blank, p. 22; half title. Fugitive Pieces, p. 23; 
 verso blank, p. 24; Fugitive Pieces, pp. 25-34; half title. Notes, p. 35; 
 
2l6 NOTES 
 
 verso blank, p. 36; Notes, pp. 37-40. Contents: Tamerlane ; Fugitive 
 
 Pieces: To ; Dreams; Visit of the Dead; Evening Star; Imitation; 
 
 Commmiion with Nature; A wilder'd being from my birth; The happi- 
 est day — the happiest hour; TheLake; Author's Notes (To Tamerlane). 
 The volume measures 6.37 by 4.13 inches, and was issued as a pamphlet 
 in yellow covers. Only three copies are known. One is in the British 
 Museum, and the other two are in the library of a New York collector. 
 Mr. R. H. Shepherd made a reprint of the British Museum copy in 1884, 
 with corrections of misprints in a separate list. 
 
 V'he preface reads as follows: "The greater part of the poems which 
 compose this little volume were written in the year 1821-2, when the 
 author had not completed his fourteenth year. They were of course not 
 intended for publication; why they are now published concerns no one but 
 himself. Of the smaller pieces very little need be said ; They perhaps savor 
 too much of egotism; but they were written by one too young to have 
 any knowledge of the world but from his own breast. 
 
 ..^n 'T amerlan e' he has endeavored to expose the folly of even risking 
 the best feelings of the heart at the shrine of Ambition. He is conscious 
 that in this there are many faults (besides that of the general character of 
 the poems), which he flatters himself he could, with little trouble, have 
 corrected, but unlike many of his predecessors, has been too fond of his 
 early productions to amend them in his old age. 
 
 " He will not say that he is indifferent as to the success of these Poems 
 -^ it might stimulate him to other attempts — but he can safely assert 
 that failure will not at all influence him in a resolution already adopted. 
 This is challenging criticism — let it be so. Nos haec novimus esse nihil." 
 
 1829 
 
 AL AAEAAF, / TAMERLANE, / AND / MINOR POEMS / 
 (Rule) BY EDGAR A. POE. / (Rule) BALTIMORE: / HATCH & 
 DUNNING / (Rule) 1829. 
 
 Collation: Title, p. 1; verso (copyright secured), p. 2 (in lower right 
 hand comer: Matchett & Woods Printers); p. 3, quotation: 
 Entiendes, Fabio, lo que vol dedendo? 
 Toma, si, lo enteudio: — Mientes, Fabio. 
 p. 4, blank; p. s, balf title: AL AARAAF; verso, p. 6: 
 
 What has night to do with sleep? — Comtts. 
 
NOTES 217 
 
 p. 7, Dedication: 
 
 Who drinks the deepest? — here 's to him. — Cleaveland. 
 p. 8, blank; p. 9, "A star was discovered by Tycho Brahe which burst 
 forth in a / moment, with a splendor surpassing that of Jupiter — then 
 gradually / faded away and became invisible to the naked eye." p. 10, 
 blank; p. 11, poem, Science; p. 12, blank; pp. 13-21, ALA ARAAF, part 
 I.; p. 22, blank; p. 23, half title, AL AARAAF; verso blank, p. 24; pp. 
 25-38, AL AARAAF, part II.; p. 39, half title, TAMERLANE; p. 40: 
 Advertisement 
 This poem was printed for publication in Boston, in the year / 1827, 
 but suppressed through circumstances of a private nature. 
 p. 41, Dedication: TO / JOHN NEAL / THIS POEM / IS RE- 
 SPECTFULLY DEDICATED. / p. 42, blank ; pp. 43-54, TAMER- 
 I-ANE; / p. 55, half title, MISCELLANEOUS POEMS ; p. 56: 
 My nothingness — my wants — 
 My sins — And my contrition — Southey e. Persis.' 
 And some flowers — but no bays. — Milton. 
 P' S7. poem, Romance; p 58, blank; pp. 59-71, POEMS, numbered I top. 
 Issued in boards, with tinted paper covering, muslin backs. Size of leaf 
 untrimmed 8.75 by 5.25 inches. One copy in the library of a New York 
 collector has the date 1820, which some think a printer's error, while 
 others are of the opinion that Poe had that date put in on purpose. This 
 was a presentation copy to his cousin Elizabeth (Herring). It also has 
 his corrections in his own hand made for the 1845 edition of his poems. 
 Some copies have the poem " Science'' on the unpaged leaf. Some ten or 
 more copies of the volume are known. One is in the New York Public 
 Library, another in the Peabody Institute, Baltimore, and the others 
 mainly in private libraries — five in New York City, one in Chicago, 
 one in Washington, and one in Pittsburg. 
 
 1831 
 
 POEMS / By / Edgar A. Poe. / (Rule) Tout le Monde a Raison.— 
 Rochefoucault. / (Rule) Second Edition / (Rule) New York: / Pub- 
 lished by Elam Bliss. / (Rule) 1831. 
 
 Collation: p. i, half title. Poems; verso blank, p. 2; p. 3, title; p. 4, 
 imprint; p. s. Dedication, To The U. S. / Corps Of Cadets / This vol- 
 ' Error for Souihey's Peesis. 
 
2l8 NOTES 
 
 ume / is Respectfully Dedicated; verso blank, p. 6; p. 7, Contents; 
 verso blank, p. 8;' half title, "Letter," p. 9; verso blank, p. 10; p. 11, 
 
 Quotation; verso blank, p. 12; pp. 13-29, text of letter to Mr. ; 
 
 verso blank, p. 30; p. 31, half title, "Introduction"; verso blank, p. 32; 
 PP- 33-124. POEMS : Helen, Israfel, The Doomed City, Fairy-land, 
 Irene, A Paean, The Valley Nis, Science, Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane. Size 
 of leaf untrimmed 6.75 by 3.7s inches. Issued in cloth binding. Some 
 copies have the word "The End" on the last leaf. Six copies are 
 known, but there are likely others. 
 
 The original form of the 1831 letter,' with the Southern Literary Mes- 
 sender variations, follows : — 
 
 It has been said that a good critique on a poem may be written by one 
 who is no poet himself. This, according to your idea and mine of poetry, 
 I feel to be false — the less poetical the critic, the less just the critique, 
 
 and the converse. On this account, and because there are but few B 's 
 
 in the world, I would be as much ashamed of the world's good opinion as 
 proud of your own. Another than yourself might here observe, "Shake- 
 speare is in possession of the world's good opinion, and yet Shake- 
 speare is the greatest of poets. It appears then that the world judge cor- 
 rectly, why should you be ashamed of their favorable judgment?" The 
 difficulty lies in the interpretation of the word "judgment" or "opinion." 
 The opinion is the world's, truly, but it may be called theirs as a man 
 would call a book his, having Ijought it; he did not write the book, but it 
 is his; they did not originate the opinion, but it is theirs. A fool, for ex- 
 ample, thinks Shakespeare a great poet — yet the fool has never read 
 Shakespeare. But the fool's neighbor, who is a step higher on the Andes 
 of the mind, whose head (that is to say, his more exalted thought) is too 
 far above the fool to be seen or understood, but whose feet (by which I 
 mean his every-day actions) are sufficiently near to be discerned, and by 
 means of which that superiority is ascertained, which hut for them would 
 never have been discovered — this neighbor asserts that Shakespeare is 
 i great poet — the fool believes him, and it is henceforward his opinion. 
 This neighbor's own opinion has, in like manner, been adopted from one 
 
 * Printed, with the foilowing note in the Southern Literary Messenger of 
 
 July, 1836: "Letter To B These detached passages form part of the 
 
 preface to a small volume printed some years ago for private circulation. They 
 have vigor asd much originality — but of course we shall not be called upon to 
 endorsi all the writer's opinions. — Ed. " 
 
NOTES 219 
 
 above him, and so, ascendingly, to a few gifted individuals who kneel 
 around the summit, beholding, face to face, the master spirit who stands 
 upon the pinnacle. * * * 
 
 You are aware of the great barrier in the path of an American writer. 
 He is read, if at all, in preference to the combined and established wit of 
 the world. I say established; for it is with literature as with law or em- 
 pire — an established name is an estate in tenure, or a throne in posses- 
 sion. Besides, one might suppose that boolis, lilce their authors, improve 
 by travel — their having crossed the sea is, with us, so great a distinction. 
 Our antiquaries abandon time for distance; our very fops glance from 
 the binding to the bottom of the title-page, where the mystic characters 
 which spell London, Paris, or Genoa, are precisely so many letters of 
 recommendation. * * * 
 
 I mentioned just now a vulgar error as regards criticism. I think the 
 notion that no poet can form a correct estimate of his own writings is an- 
 other. I remarked before, that in proportion to the poetical talent, would 
 be the justice of a critique upon poetry. Therefore, a bad poet would, I 
 grant, make a false critique, and his self-love would infallibly bias his little 
 judgment in his favor; but a poet, who is indeed a poet, could not, I think, 
 fail of making a just critique. Whatever should be deducted on the score 
 of self-love, might be replaced on account of his intimate acquaintance 
 with the subject; in short, we have more instances of false criticism than 
 of just, where one's own writings are the test, simply because we have 
 more bad poets than good. There are of course many objections to what 
 I say: Milton is a great e:;ample of the contrary; but his opinion with re- 
 spect to the Paradise Regained is by no means fairly ascertained. By 
 what trivial circumstances men are often led to assert what they do not 
 really believe! Perhaps an inadvertent word has descended to posterity. 
 But, ill fact, the Paradise Regained is little, if at all, inferior to the Para- 
 dise Lost, and is only supposed so to be, because men do not like epics, 
 whatever they may say to the contrary, and reading those of Milton in 
 their natural order, are too much wearied with the first to derive any 
 pleasure from the second. 
 
 I dare say Milton preferred Comus to either — if so —justly. * * ♦ 
 
 As I am speaking of poetry, it will not be amiss to touch slightly upon 
 the most singular heresy in its modern history — the heresy of what is 
 called very foolishly, the Lake School. Some years ago I might have been 
 induced, by an occasion like the present, to attempt a formal refutation 
 of their doctrine; at present it would be a work of supererogation. The 
 
220 NOTES 
 
 wise must bow to the wisdom of such men as Coleridge and Southey, but 
 being wise, have laughed at poetical theories so prosaically exemplified. 
 
 Aristotle, with singular assurance, has declared poetry the most philo- 
 sophical of all writings;* but it required a Wordsworth to pronounce it 
 the most metaphysical. He seems to think that the end of poetry is, or 
 should be, instruction — yet it is a truism that the end of our exist- 
 ence is happiness; if so, the end of every separate part of our existence 
 — every thing connected with our existence should be still happiness. 
 Therefore the end of instruction should be happiness; and happiness is 
 another name for pleasure; — therefore the end of instruction should be 
 pleasure: yet we see the above mentioned opinion implies precisely the 
 reverse. 
 
 To proceed; ceteris paribus, he who pleases, is of more importance to 
 his fellow men than he who instructs, since utility is happiness, and plea- 
 sure is the end already obtained which instruction is merely the means of 
 obtaining. 
 
 I see no reason, then, why our metaphysical poets should plume them- 
 selves so much on the utility of their works, unless indeed they refer to 
 instruction with eternity in view; in which case, sincere respect for their 
 piety would not allow me to express my contempt for their judgment; 
 contempt which it would be difficult to conceal, since their writings are 
 professedly to be understood by the few, and it is the many who stand in 
 need of salvation. In such case I should no doubt be tempted to think 
 of the devil in "Melmoth,'' who labors indefatigably through three 
 octavo volumes to accomplish the destruction of one or two souls, while 
 any common devil would have demolished one or two thousand. * * * 
 
 Against the subtleties which would make poetry a study — not a pas- 
 sion — it becomes the metaphysician to reason — but the poet to pro- 
 test. Yet Wordsworth and Coleridge are men in years; the one im- 
 bued in contemplation from his childhood, the other a giant in intellect 
 and learning. The diffidence, then, with which I venture to dispute their 
 authority, would be overwhelming, did I not feel, from the bottom of my 
 heart, that learning has little to do with the imagination — intellect 
 with the passions — or age with poetry, * * * 
 
 "Trifles, like straws, upon the surface flow, 
 He who would search for pearls must dive below," 
 
 are lines which have done much mischief. As regards the greater truths, 
 
 men of tener err by seeking them at the bottom than at the top ; the depth 
 
 * Spoudaiotaton kai pbilosophikotaton genos. S. L. M. text. 
 
NOTES 221 
 
 lies in the huge abysses where wisdom is sought — not in the palpable 
 places where she is found. The ancients were not always right in hiding 
 the goddess in a well: witness the light which Bacon has thrown upon 
 philosophy; witness the principles of our divine faith — that moral 
 mechanism by which the simplicity of a child may overbalance the wis- 
 dom of a man. (*Poetry above all things is a beautiful painting whose 
 tints to minute inspection are confusion worse confounded, but start 
 boldly out to the cursory glance of the connoisseur.) 
 
 We see an instance of Coleridge's liability to err, in his " Biographia 
 Literaria " — professedly his literary life and opinions, but, in fact, a 
 treatise de omni scibili el quibusdam aliis. He goes wrong by reason of his 
 very profundity, and of his error we have a natural type in the contem- 
 plation of a star. He who regards it directly and intensely sees, it is true, 
 the star, but it is the star without a ray — while he who surveys it less 
 inquisitively is conscious of all for which the star is useful to us below — 
 its brilliancy and its beauty. * * * 
 
 As to Wordsworth, I have no faith in him. That he had, in youth, the 
 feelings of a poet I believe — for there are glimpses of extreme delicacy 
 in his writings — (and delicacy is the poet's own kingdom — his El Do- 
 rado) — but they have the appearance of a better day recollected; and 
 glimpses, at best, are little evidence of present poetic fire — we know 
 that a few straggling flowers spring up daily in the crevices of the (tava- 
 lanche) . 
 
 He was to blame in wearing away his youth in contemplation with the 
 end of poetizing in his manhood. With the increase of his judgment the 
 light which should make it apparent has faded away. His judgment con- 
 sequently is too correct. This may not be understood, — but the old 
 Goths of Germany would have understood it, who used to debate mat- 
 ters of importance to their State twice, once when drunk, and once when 
 sober — sober that they might not be deficient in formality — drunk lest 
 they should be destitute of vigor. 
 
 The long wordy discussions by which he tries to reason us into admira- 
 tion of his poetry, speak very little in his favor: they are full of such as- 
 sertions as this — (I have opened one of his volumes at random) "Of 
 genius the only proof is the act of doing well what is worthy to be done, 
 and what was never done before" — indeed! then it follows that in 
 doing what is M»worthy to be done, or what has been done before, n* 
 * Lines in parenthesis erased from S. L. M. text, 
 t Glacier in S. L. M. text. 
 
222 NOTES 
 
 genius can be evinced; yet the picking of pockets is an unworthy act, 
 pockets have been picked time immemorial, and Barrington, the pick- 
 pocket, in point of genius, would have thought hard of a comparison 
 with William Wordsworth, the poet. 
 
 Again — in estimating the merit of certain poems, whether they be 
 Ossian'sorM'Pherson's, can surely be of little consequence, yet, in order 
 to prove their worthlessness, Mr. W. has expended many pages in the 
 controversy. TanUene animis ? Can great minds descend to such ab- 
 surdity? But worse still: that he may bear down every argument in 
 favor of these poems, he triumphantly drags forward a passage, in his 
 abomination of which he expects the reader to sympathize. It is the be- 
 ginning of the epic poem * " Temora.'' " The blue waves of UUin roll in 
 light; the green hills are covered with day; trees shake their dusky heads 
 in the breeze." And this — this gorgeous, yet simple imagery, where all 
 is alive and panting with immortality — tins, William Wordsworth, the 
 author of "Peter Bell," has selected for his contempt. We shall see what 
 better he. in his own person, has to o£fer. Imprimis: 
 " And now she 's at the pony's head, 
 And now she 's at the pony's tail. 
 On that side now, and now on this, 
 And almost stiSed her with bliss — 
 A few sad tears does Betty shed. 
 She pats the pony where or when 
 She knows not: happy Betty Foy! 
 O, Johnny! never mind the Doctor!" 
 Secondly: 
 
 "The dew was falling fast, the — stars began to blink, 
 
 I heard a voice; it said drink, pretty creature, drink; 
 
 And, looking o'er the hedge, be — fore me I espied 
 
 A snow-white mountain lamb, with a — maiden at its side. 
 
 No other sheep were near, the lamb was all alone. 
 
 And by a slender cord was — tether'd to a stone." 
 
 Now, we have no doubt this is all true; we will believe it, indeed, we 
 will, Mr. W. Is it sympathy for the sheep you wish to excite ? I love 
 a sheep from the bottom of my heart. 
 
 But there are occasions, dear B , there are occasions when even 
 
 Wordsworth is reasonable. Even Stamboul, it is said, shall have an end 
 * No italics in S. L. M. text. 
 
NOTES 223 
 
 and the most unlucky blunders must come to a conclusion. Here is an 
 extract from his preface — 
 
 "Those who have been accustomed to the phraseology of modern writ- 
 ers, if they persist in reading this book to a conclusion {impossible!) will, 
 no doubt, have to struggle with feelings of awkwardness; (ha! ha! ha!) 
 they will look round for poetry (hal ha! ha! ha!) and will be induced to 
 inquire by what species of courtesy these attempts have been permitted 
 to assume that title." Ha! ha! hal ha! ha! 
 
 Yet let not Mr. W. despair; he has given immortality to a wagon, and 
 the bee Sophocles has transmitted to eternity a sore toe, and dignified a 
 tragedy with a chorus of turkeys. ♦ * * 
 
 Of Coleridge I cannot speak but with reverence. His towering intel- 
 lect! his gigantic power! ' (He is one more evidence of the fact) (To 
 use an author quoted by himself, " J'ai trouv^ souvent) ^ que la plupart 
 des sectes ont raison dans une bonne partie de ce qu'elles avancent, 
 mais non pas en ce qu'elles nient," (and to employ his own language,)' 
 he has imprisoned his own conceptions by the barrier he has erected 
 against those of others. It is lamentable to think that such n mind 
 should be buried in metaphysics, and, like the Nyctanthes, waste its 
 perfume upon the night alone. In reading [that man's*] poetry, I trem- 
 ble, like one who stands upon a volcano, conscious, from the very dark- 
 ness bursting from the crater, of the fire and the light that are weltering 
 below. 
 
 What is Poetry? — Poetry! that Proteus-like idea, with as many ap- 
 pellations as the nine-titled Corcyra! Give me, I demanded of a scholar 
 some time ago, give me a definition of poetry. "Trjs-volontiers," and he 
 proceeded to his library, brought me a Dr. Johnson, and overwhelmed 
 me with a definition. Shade of the immortal Shakespeare! I imagine to 
 myself the scowl of your spiritual eye upon the profanity of that scurril- 
 ous Ursa IVIajor. Think of poetry, dear B , think of poetry, and then 
 
 think of — Dr. Samuel Johnson! Think of all that is airy and fairy-like, 
 and then of all that is hideous and unwieldy; think of his huge bulk, the 
 Elephant! and then — and then think of the Tempest — the Midsum- 
 mer Night's Dream — Prospero — Oberon — and Titania! * * • 
 
 A poem, in my opinion, is opposed to a work of science by having, for 
 its immediate object, pleasure, not truth; to romance, by having for its 
 
 1 S. L. M. teit. » Erased from S. L. M. text. 
 
 ' Erased from S. L. M. text. • " his " in S. L. M. text 
 
224 NOTES 
 
 object an indefinite instead of a definite pleasure, being a poem only so far 
 as this object is attained; romance presenting perceptible images with 
 definite, poetry with indefinite sensations, to which end music is an essen- 
 tial, since the comprehension of sweet soand is otii most indefinite concep- 
 tion. Music, when combined with a pleasurable idea, is poetry; music 
 without the idea is simply music; the idea without the music is prose 
 from its very definitivencss. 
 
 What was meant by the invective against him who had no music in his 
 soul? • • * 
 
 To sum up this long rigmarole, I have, dear B , what you no doubt 
 
 perceive, for the metaphysical poets, as poets, the most sovereign con- 
 tempt. That they have followers proves nothing — 
 
 No Indian prince has to his palace 
 
 More followers than a thief to the gallows. 
 
 i84S 
 
 The Raven/ And /Other Poems. /By/ Edgar A. Poe. /New 
 York: /Wiley & Putnam, i6i Broadway. /184s. 
 
 Collation: half-title. Wiley And Putnam's / Library Of/ AMERI- 
 CAN BOOKS. / The Raven and Other Poems. Title, p. I ; with copy- 
 right and imprint on verso, p. II; dedication, p. Ill; verso blank, p. IV; 
 Preface, p. V; verso. Contents, p. VI. The Raven and Other Poems, • 
 pp. 1-51 ; blank verso, p. 52 ; half-title, Poems Written In Youth, p. 
 53; verso blank, p. 54; Poems Written In Youth, pp 55-91. Issued in 
 paper covers. Size 7.50 by 5.25 inches. The same edition was issued by 
 the same firm in London with the imprint 1846. 
 
 THE RAVEN 
 
 The American Whig Resiew, February, 1845; the Evening Mirror, 
 January 29, 1845; Southern Literary Messenger, March, 1845; London 
 Critic, June, 1845; 1845; J. Lorimer Graham copy of 1845 poems; Lit- 
 erary Emporium, 1845; Richmond Examiner, September 25, 1849. 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 II. 3. sought: tried, all others except 1845. 
 
 6. here : no italics except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 rn. 6. This: That. L. E. ; S. L. M. 
 
NOTES 225 
 
 V. 3. sliUness: darkness, all others except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 
 VI. 1. Back: Then, all others except 184s and J. Lorimer Graham, 
 l84S- 
 
 2. again I heard: I heard again, all others except J. Lorimer Gra- 
 ham, 1845. 
 
 VII. 3. minute: instant, all others except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 
 IX. 3. limng human: sublunary. A. W. R. 
 
 X. 6. Then the bird said: Quoth the raven. A. W. R.; E. M.; S. L. M. 
 
 XI. I. Startled: wondering. A. W. R.; S. L. M. 
 
 4. songs: song. C. 
 
 4-6. till . . . nevermore: so when Hope he would adjure Stern De- 
 spair returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared adjure. 
 
 That sad answer, "Nevermore." A. W. R.; E. M.; S. L. M. 
 
 5. That: the, all others except 1843, and J. Lorimer Graham, 184s. 
 
 6. Of "Never — Nevermore": of "Nevermore" all others except 
 1845 and J. Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 
 XII. 1. My sad fancy: all my sad soul, all others; my fancy; J. Lori- 
 mer Graham, 1845. 
 
 XIII. I. This: Thus. C. 
 
 XIV. 2. seraphim whose: angels whose faint, all others except J. 
 Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 
 S. Quaff, oh: Let me. A. W. R.; S. L. M. 
 XVIII. I. still: No italics except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 
 3. demon's: demon, all others except 1845. 
 
 Notes: In the Broadway Journal, May 24, 1845, a. variant reading 
 of the poem is given as follows: — 
 
 " While I pondered nearly napping 
 Suddenly there came a rapping. 
 As of some one gently tapping. 
 Tapping at my chamber door." 
 
 The Shea manuscript recorded elsewhere also gives variant readings, 
 and in the quotations from the poem in Poe's " Philosophy of Composi- 
 tion," two verbal variations are found — VII. 3. minute for moment and 
 X. I. that for the. 
 
 The above readings of " The Raven " show the poem in eight states. 
 First as sent to the American Whig Review, February, 1845; second as 
 revised in the Evening Mirror, January 29, 1845; third as revised in the 
 Southern Literary Messenger, March, 1845; fourth as revised in the Loo- 
 
226 NOTES 
 
 don Critic, June, 1845; fifth as revised in the edition of the 1845 poems ; 
 sixth as revised in the J. Lorimer Graham copy of the 1843 poems in 
 Poe's own hand; seventh as revised in the Literary Emporium, 1845 ; 
 eighth and finally in the Richmond Examiner, September 25, 1849. 
 
 Many theories as to the composition of "The Raven" have been 
 published. Dr. William Elliot Griffis, in the Home Journal, November 5, 
 1884, stated that Poe mentioned "The Raven'' and showed a draft of the 
 poem to a contributor to the New York Mirror, in the summer of 1842, 
 at the Barhyte trout Ponds, Saratoga Springs, New York. 
 
 Mr. Rosenback in the American, February 26, 1887, claimed that he 
 read "The Raven" long before it was published, and was in George R. 
 Graham's office, when the poem was offered there. Poe said that his wife 
 and Mrs. Clemm were starving, and that he was in pressing need of funds. 
 Fifteen dollars was contributed to Poe as charity, but the poem was not 
 accepted. This date was about the winter of 1843-44. 
 
 F. G. Fairfield has an account in Scribner's Magazine, October, 1875, 
 that the poem was written at the Fordham cottage, 1844-45; also that 
 it was a sort of joint stock affair, the stanzas being produced at intervals 
 by Colonel Du SoUe, and others. 
 
 Poe did not move to Fordham until the spring of 1846. 
 
 Colonel J. A. Joyce attributed the poem to "The Parrot," published 
 in the Milan Art Journal, for 1809, by Leo Fenzoni, but failed to give 
 further authenticated data. 
 
 The generally accepted theory is that given by Judge George Shea, 
 formerly of the Marine Court of New York. Poe wrote Shea's father the 
 following letter without date: — 
 
 "Dear Shea, — Lest I should have made some mistake in the hurry I 
 transcribe the whole alteration. Instead of the whole stanza commenc- 
 ing 'Wondering at the stillness broken &c.' substitute this: 
 ' 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 
 Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore — 
 Till the dirges of his Hope the melancholy burden bore. 
 Nevermore — Ah Nevermore." ' 
 
 " At the close of the stanza preceding this, instead of Quoth the ra- 
 ven Nevermore, substitute 'Then the bird said "Nevermore." ' — Truly 
 yours, PoE," 
 
NOTES 22"] 
 
 This is written on a glazed paper without lines, and on the back "J. 
 Augustus Shea Esq. — to be delivered as soon as he comes in." The 
 manuscript is now in the library of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., of New 
 York City. Judge Shea stated that his father and Poe were cadets to- 
 gether at West Point and close associates; that in later life they were 
 often together, and that Poe consulted his father about the publication 
 of his poems. In this way he committed to Shea the publication anony- 
 mously of " The Raven " which appeared in the Whi% Review. 
 
 The circumstantial evidences, however, do not fully accord with this 
 theory. Poe was well acquainted with the editor of the Whig Review who 
 alluded to the poem as from a correspondent. No good reason appears 
 for Poe sending the poem by Shea. It is in evidence that Poe was a cor- 
 respondent of the journal, but not Shea. The lines sent to Shea did not 
 appear in the Whig Review. Some of the alterations sent Shea do not 
 appear to have ever been published by Poe. Shea was known to have 
 London literary correspondents, and the text sent him may have had some 
 reference to "The Raven" sent by Poe to the London Critic in June, 
 1845. In the Broadway Journal of August 23, 1845, Poe made the follow- 
 ing notice of Shea's death: "We note with regret the death of James Au- 
 gustus Shea, Esq., a native of Ireland, for many years a citizen of the 
 United States, and a resident of this city. He died on Friday morning, 
 the 17th inst., at the early age of 42. As a poet his reputation was high — 
 but by no means as high as his deserts. His 'Ocean' is really one of the 
 most spirited lyrics ever published. Its rhythm strikingly resembles 
 'The Bridge of Sighs.' " 
 
 F. W. Thomas's Recollections of E. A. Poe states that Poe informed 
 him that "The Raven" was written in one day; that in having it appear 
 anonymously he had merely followed a whim like Coleridge, who pub- 
 lished his "Raven" in the same way. Thomas further stated that Poe 
 was constantly urged by himself and others to revise the lines in the poem 
 referring to the "shadow on the floor" and "seraphin whose foot-falls 
 tinkled on the tufted floor." To criticisms of the former he claimed a con- 
 ception of the bracket candelabrum aflBxed high up against the wall, while 
 he argued for the latter that his idea was good and came from Isaiah 
 iii. 16 : " The daughters of Zion making a tinkling with their feet." 
 
 For Poe's commentary on " The Raven," see his " Philosophy of Com- 
 position." The text of "The Raven"given in editions of Poe'spoemssince 
 Griswold's time as revised by Poe for the Broadway Journal, February 8, 
 184s, is an error. Poe at that time was employed on the Mirror, and 
 
228 NOTES 
 
 in a letter to Thomas dated May 4, 1845, said: "I send you an early 
 number of the Broadway Journal, containing my 'Raven.' It was cop- 
 ied by Briggs, my associate, before I joined the paper. 'The Raven' had 
 a great 'run,' Thomas — but I wrote it for the express purpose of run- 
 ning — just as I did the 'Gold Bug,' you know. The bird beat the bug 
 though, all hollow.'' The supposition also advanced that the Mirror text 
 of the poem followed that of the Whig Review is also an error. The Mirror 
 text, as will be seen here, was considerably revised by Poe. 
 
 The Thomas Recollections state that Poe made up the Literary Em- 
 porium volume, which was further confirmed by printers who worlted on 
 the book. Poe himself said about this period that he would devote his 
 time, "getting out books." The poem in that volume is in all probabilities 
 the text of "The Raven," seen in proof with Poe while on the Broadiaay 
 Journal by the office boy Alexander T. Crane, whose recollections have 
 been published. Thomas also states that Poe made repeated efforts to 
 have his poems appear in London during the year 1845. He did succeed 
 in having some notices of his journal and "The Raven" appear in the 
 London Critic. 
 
 THE RAVEN. BY — QUARLES 
 
 American Whig Review, February, 1845: The following lines from a 
 torrespondent — besides the deep quaint strain of the sentiment, and the 
 ■jurious introduction of some ludicrous touches amidst the serious and im- 
 pressive, as was doubtless intended by the author — appear to us one of 
 the most felicitous specimens of unique rhyming which has for some time 
 met our eye. The resources of English rhythm for varieties of melody, 
 measure, and soimd, producing corresponding diversities of effect, have 
 been thoroughly studied, much more perceived, by very few poets in the 
 language. While the classic tongues, especially the Greek, possess, by 
 power of accent, several advantages for versification over our own, chiefly 
 through greater abundance of spondaic feet, we have other and very great 
 advantages of sound by the modern usage of rhyme. Alliteration is nearly 
 the only effect of that kind which the ancients had in common with us. 
 It will be seen that much of the melody of "The Raven" arises from allit- 
 eration, and the studious use of similar sounds in unusual places. In re- 
 gard to its measure, it may be noted that, if all the verses were like the 
 second, they might properly be placed merely in short lines, producing a 
 not uncommon form; but the presence in all the others of one line — 
 
NOTES 229 
 
 mostly the secsnd in the verse — which flows continuously, with only an 
 aspirate pause in the middle, like that before the short line in the Sapphic 
 Adonic, while the fifth has at the middle pause no similarity of sound with 
 any part beside, gives the versification an entirely different effect. We 
 could wish the capacities of our noble language, in prosody, were better 
 understood. — Ed. Am. Rev. 
 
 Evening Mirror, January 29, 1843: We are permitted to copy (in 
 advance of publication) from the second number of The American Review, 
 the following remarliable poem by Edgar Poe. In our opinion, it is the 
 most effective single example of " fugitive poetry " ever published in this 
 country; and unsurpassed in English poetry for subtile conception, mas- 
 terly ingenuity of versification, and consistent sustaining of imaginative 
 lift and " pokerishness." It is one of those "dainties bred in a book," 
 which we feed on. It will stick to the memory of everybody who reads it. 
 
 Southern Literary Messenger, March, 1845: Mr. Brooks, editor of the 
 New York Express,ss.ys: "There is a poem in this book {The American 
 Whig Review) which far surpasses anything that has been done even by 
 the best poets of the age: — indeed there are none of them who could pre- 
 tend to enter into competition with it, except, perhaps, Alfred Tennyson; 
 and he only to be excelled out of measure. Nothing can be conceived 
 more effective than the settled melancholy of the poet bordering upon 
 suUen despair in the Raven settling over the poet's door, to depart thence 
 ' Nevermore.' In power and originality of versification the whole is no 
 less remarkable than it is, psychologically, a wonder." 
 
 Richmo nd Examiner, September 25, 1849; Mr. Edgar A. Poe lec- 
 tured again last night on the "Poetic Principle" and concluded his lec- 
 ture as before with his now celebrated poem of "The Raven.'' As the at- 
 tention of many in this city is now directed to this singular performance, 
 and as Mr. Poe's poems from which only it is to be obtained in the book- 
 stores, have been long out of print, we furnish our readers, to-day, with 
 the only correct copy ever published — which we are enabled to do by 
 the courtesy of Mr. Poe himself. "The Raven " has taken rank over the 
 whole world of literature, as the very first poem as yet produced on the 
 American continent. There is indeed but one other, the "Humble Bee" 
 of Ralph Waldo Emerson, which can be ranked near it. The latter is su- 
 perior to it as a work of construction and design while the former is supe- 
 rior to the latter as a work of pure art. They hold the same relation, the 
 one to the other, that a masterpiece of painting holds to a splendid piece 
 of Mosaic. But while this poem maintains a rank so b'gh among all per- 
 
230 NOTES 
 
 sons of catholic and general cultivated taste, we can conceive the wrath 
 of many who will read it for the first time in the columns of this news- 
 paper. Those who have formed their taste in the Pope and Dryden school, 
 whose earliest poetical acquaintance is Milton, and whose latest Hamlet 
 and Cowper — with a small sprinkling of Moore and Byron — will not 
 be apt to relish on first sight a poem tinged so deeply with the dyes of the 
 Nineteenth Century. The poem will make an impression on them which 
 they will not be able to explain, — but that will irritate them, — criti- 
 cism and explanation are useless with such. Criticism cannot reason peo- 
 ple into an attachment. In spite of our plans, such will talk of the gaudi- 
 ness of Keats and craziness of Shelley, until they see deep enough into 
 their claims to forget or be ashamed to talk so. Such will angrily pro- 
 nounce " The Raven " flat nonsense. )inother class will be disgusted there- 
 with because they can see no pur pose, no alle gory, no meaning as they 
 express it in the poem. These people — and they constitute the majority 
 of our practical race — are possessed with a false theory. They hold that 
 every poem and poet should have some moral notion or other, which it 
 is his "mission" to expound. Th at theory is all fals e. To build theories, 
 principles, religions, etc., is the business of the argumentative, not of the 
 poetic faculty. The business of poetry is to minister to the-Sense «L the 
 beautiful logman minds. — That sense is a simple element in our na- 
 ture — 'simple, not compound; and therefore the art which ministers to it 
 may safely be said to have an ultimate end in so ministering. This "The 
 Raven" does in an eminent degree. It has no allegory in it, no purpose 
 — or a very slight one — but it isA ," thing ofbeauty " and will be a "joy 
 forever" for that and no further reason. In the jast stanza is an imag e 
 of settled despair and despondency, which throws a gleam of meaning and 
 allegory over the entire poem — making it all a personification of that pas- 
 sion — but that stanza is evidently an afterthought, and unconnected 
 with the original poem.YiThe Raven" itself is a mere narrative of simple 
 events. A bird which has been taught to speak by some former master 
 is lost in a stormy night, is attracted by the light of a student's window, 
 flies to it and flutters against it. Then against the door. The student 
 fancies it a visitor, opens the door and the chance word uttered by the 
 bird suggests to him memories and fancies connected with his own sit- 
 uation and his dead sweetheart or wife. Such is the poem. The last 
 stanza is an afterthought. Th cworth of "The Ra ven " is not in any 
 "m oral." nor is its charm i n thp (^pnctr^irtmn nl tta ptn^, if^-j^rssrTr,,] 
 wonderful merits con<:i!it in thp stranffe^ beautiful, and fantastic imagery 
 
NOTES 231 
 
 and color with which the simple subject is clothed, the grave and su- 
 pernatural tone with which it rolls on the ear, the extraordinary vividness 
 of the word-painting, and the powerful but altogether indefinable appeal 
 which is made throughout to the organs of ideality and marvellousness. 
 Added to these is a versification indescribably sweet and wonderfully 
 difficult — winding and convoluted about lilte the mazes of some com- 
 pUcated overtures of Beethoven. To all who have a strong perception 
 of tune there is a music in it which haunts the ear long after reading. 
 These are great merits, and "The Rave n" is a gem of art . It is stamped 
 with the image of true genius — and genius in its happiest hour. It is 
 one of those things an author never does but once. <iJ 
 
 Note. — It is known that Pee discussed the merits of " The Raven " with John 
 M. Daniel, the author of the above, and some portions may have been inspired 
 by him. This notice of the poem was found among Poe's clippings after his 
 death, and is now among the " Griswold Papers." 
 
 THE VALLEY OF UNREST 
 
 American Whig Review, April, 1845; 1845; Broadway Journal, II. 9 ; 
 "The Valley Nis," 1831; Southern Literary Messenger, February, 1836. 
 Text, 184s. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 18. rustk : rustles. A. W. R. 
 
 19. Uneasily: Unceasingly. A. W. R.; B. J. 
 After 27 insert: — 
 
 They wave; they weep; and the tears as they well 
 
 From the depth of each pallid lily-bell. 
 
 Give a trickle and a tinkle and a knell. A. W. R. 
 
 The earliest (1831) version runs as follows: The Southern Literary 
 Messenger reading is noted below: — 
 
 THE VALLEY NIS 
 
 Far away — far away — 
 Far away — as far at least 
 Lies that valley as the day 
 Down within the golden east — 
 All things lovely — are not they 
 Far away ^- far away? 
 
232 NOTES 
 
 It is called the valley Nis. 
 
 And a Syriac tale there is 
 
 Thereabout which Time hath said 
 
 Shall not be interpreted. 
 
 Something about Satan's dart — 
 
 Something about angel wings — 
 
 Much about a broken heart — 
 
 All about unhappy things: 
 
 But "the valley Nis" at best 
 
 Means " the valley of unrest." 
 
 Once it smil'd a silent dell 
 
 Where the people did not dwell, 
 
 Eaving gone unto the wars — 
 
 And the sly, mysterious stars, 
 
 With a visage full of meaning. 
 
 O'er the imguarded flowers were leaning: 
 
 Or the sun ray dripp'd all red 
 
 Thro' the tulips overhead. 
 
 Then grew paler as it fell 
 
 On the quiet Asphodel. 
 
 Now the unhappy shall confess 
 Nothing there is motionless: 
 Helen, like thy human eye 
 There th' uneasy violets lie — 
 There the reedy grass doth wave 
 Over the old forgotten grave — 
 One by one from the tree top 
 There the eternal dews do drop — 
 There the vague and dreamy trees 
 Do roll like seas in northern breeze 
 Around the stormy Hebrides — 
 There the gorgeous clouds do fly. 
 Rustling everlastingly, 
 Through the terror-stricken sky. 
 Rolling like a waterfall 
 O'er the horizon's fiery wall — 
 There the moon doth shine by night 
 With a most unsteady light — 
 
NOTES 233 
 
 There the sun doth reel by day 
 " Over the hills and far away." 
 
 6. Far away ; One and all, too. 
 24. the: tall. 
 27-46. Now each visiter shall confess 
 Nothing there is motionless: 
 Nothing save the airs that brood 
 O'er the enchanted soUtude, 
 Save the airs with pinions furled 
 That slumber o'er the valley-world. 
 No wind in Heaven, and lo! the trees 
 Do roll like seas, in Northern breeze, 
 Around the stormy Hebrides — 
 No wind in Heaven, and clouds do fly. 
 Rustling everlastingly. 
 Through the terror-stricken sky, 
 Rolling, like a waterfall 
 O'er th' horizon's fiery wall — 
 And Helen, like thy human eye. 
 Low crouched on Earth, some violets lie. 
 And, nearer Heaven, some lilies wave 
 All banner-like, above a grave. 
 And, one by one, from out their tops 
 Eternal dews come down in drops, 
 Ah, one by one, from off their stems 
 Eternal dews come down in gems ! 
 
 BRIDAL BALLAD 
 
 Southern Literary Messenger, January, 1837, (Ballad); Philadelphia, 
 Saturday Evening Post, July 31, 1841; Philadelphia, Saturday Museum, 
 March 4, 1843, (Song of The Newly Wedded); 184S; Broadway Journal, 
 n. 4 ; Richmond Examiner, October, 1849. 
 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 L 3. Insert after: — 
 
 And many a rood of land. S. L. M. 
 
234 NOTES 
 
 II. 1 . He has loved me long and well. S. L. M. 
 ■J. But: And -.first, omit. S. L. M. 
 
 4. aj;like. B. J.; S. M. 
 
 rang as a hncll: were his who fell. S. L. M. rang like a 
 knell. B.J. 
 
 5. Omit. S. L. M. 
 
 III. I. 5M<;And. S. L. M. 
 3. While: Bui. S. L. M. 
 
 6. Omit. S. L. M. Parenthesis omitted all others, except J. Lorimer 
 Graham, 1845. 
 
 7. Insert after: — 
 
 And thus they said I plighted 
 
 An irrevocable vow — 
 And my friends are all delighted 
 
 That his love I have requited — 
 And my mind is much benighted 
 
 If I am not happy now! 
 
 Lo! the ring is on my hand. 
 
 And the wreath is on my brow — 
 
 Satins and jewels grand. 
 
 And many a rood of land. 
 
 Are all at my command. 
 
 And I must be happy now! S. L. M. 
 
 IV. 1-2. 1 have spoken, I have spoken. 
 
 They have registered the vow. S. L. M. 
 It was spoken — it was spoken — 
 Quick they registered the vow. S. E. P. 
 5-6. Here is a ring as token 
 
 That I am happy now. Omit all others, except J. Lorimer 
 Graham, 1845. 
 
 V. s. Lest: h.ni. S. L. M. 
 
 Note : The addition of the two new lines in the fourth stanza of this 
 poem shows the interesting way in which Foe derived his very character- 
 istic varied repetend by doubling up two previous variant readings. The 
 following from the Southern Literary Messenger, August, 1835, might well 
 be read in connection with this poem. Authorities are of the opinion that 
 it may have been the first draft of the poem. This might also apply to 
 " Lenore." 
 
NOTES 235 
 
 The subjoined copy of an old Scotch ballad contains so much of the 
 beauty and genuine spirit of bygone poetry that I have determined to 
 risk a frown from the fair lady by whom the copy was furnished in sub- 
 mitting it for publication. The ladies sometimes violate their promises 
 — may I not for once assume the privilege, in presenting to the readers 
 of the Messenger this "legend of the olden time," although / promised not f 
 Relying on the kind heart of the lady for forgiveness for this breach of 
 promise. I have anticipated the pardon in sending you the lines which I 
 have never as yet seen in print: — 
 
 " BALLAD 
 
 " They have giv'n her to another — 
 They have sever'd ev'ry vow ; 
 They have giv'n her to another 
 And my heart is lonely now; 
 They remember'd not our parting — 
 They remember'd not our tears, 
 They have sever'd in one fatal hour 
 The tenderness of years. 
 Oh! was it weel to leave me? 
 Thou couldst not so deceive me; 
 Lang and sairly shall I grieve thee, 
 Lost, lost Rosabel! 
 
 " They have giv'n thee to another — 
 Thou art now his gentle bride; 
 Had I lov'd thee as a brother, 
 I might see thee by his side; 
 But / know with gold they won thee 
 And thy trusting heart beguil'd; 
 Thy mother, too, did shun me. 
 For she knew I lov'd her child. 
 Oh! was it weel, etc. 
 
 " They have giv'n her to another — 
 She will love him, so they say; 
 If her mem'ry do not chide her. 
 Or, perhaps, perhaps she may; 
 But I know that she hath spoken 
 
236 NOTES 
 
 What she never can forget ; 
 And tho' my poor heart be broken, 
 It will love her, love her yet. 
 Oh! was it weal, etc." 
 
 THE SLEEPER 
 
 "The Poets and Poetry of America," 1842; Philadelphia Saluriay Mu- 
 ie«ffj, March 4, 1843; 1845; Broadway Journal,!. 18; 1831, Title Irene; 
 Poe MS. Irene The Dead; Southern Literary Messenger, May, 1836, Irene; 
 Richmond Examiner, October, 1849. 
 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 II. Jog: mist. P. P. A. 
 
 16. Insert after: — 
 
 Her casement open to the skies. S. M.; 1845; B. J.; Eer : with 
 P. P. A. 
 
 17. Irene with: And. P. P. A. 
 19. Window: lattice. S. M. 
 20-21. Omit. S. M.; P. P. A. 
 
 35. Stranger thy glorious length of tress. P. P. A. 
 39-47. Soft may the worms about her creep! 
 
 This bed, being changed for one more holy. 
 
 This room for one more melancholy 
 
 I pray to God that she may lie 
 
 Forever with unclosed eye! 
 
 My love she sleeps, 0, may her sleep 
 
 As it is lasting so be deep! 
 
 Heaven have her in its sacred keep! P. P. A. 
 
 44. pale: dim. S. M.; 1845; B. J. 
 
 49. vault : tomb. P.P. A. 
 
 50. vault: tomb. P. P. A. 
 57. tomb: vault. P. P. A. 
 
 59. thrilling : nor thrill. P. P. A. 
 
 The (1831) earliest version reads as follows : — 
 
 'T is now (so sings the soaring moon) 
 Midnight in the sweet month of June, 
 
NOTES 237 
 
 When winged visions love to lie 
 
 Lazily upon beauty's eye, 
 
 Or worse — upon her brow to dance 
 
 In panoply of old romance, 
 
 Till thoughts and locks are left, alas! 
 
 A ne'er-to-be untangled mass. 
 
 An influence dewy, drowsy, dim. 
 
 Is dripping from that golden rim; 
 
 Grey towers are mouldering into rest. 
 
 Wrapping the fog around their breast: 
 
 Looking like Lethe, see! the lake 
 
 A conscious slumber seems to take. 
 
 And would not for the world awake: 
 
 The rosemary sleeps upon the grave — 
 
 The lily lolls upon the wave — 
 
 And million bright pines to and fro, 
 
 Are rocking lullabies as they go. 
 
 To the lone oak that reels with bliss, 
 
 Nodding above the dim abyss. 
 
 All beauty sleeps: and lo! where lies 
 
 With casement open to the skies, 
 
 Irene, with her destinies! 
 
 Thus hums the moon within her ear, 
 "O lady sweet! how camest thou here? 
 " Strange are thine eyelids — strange thy dress! 
 "And strange thy glorious length of tress! 
 "Sure thou art come o'er far-off seas, 
 "A wonder to our desert trees! 
 "Some gentle wind hath thought it right 
 "To open thy window to the night, 
 "And wanton airs from the tree-top, 
 "Laughingly thro' the lattice drop, 
 "And wave this crimson canopy, 
 "Like a banner o'er thy dreaming eye! 
 "Lady, awake! lady awake! 
 "For the holy Jesus' sake! 
 " For strangely — fearfully in this hall 
 "My tinted shadows rise and fall!" 
 
238 NOTES 
 
 The lady sleeps: the dead all sleep — 
 At least as long as Love doth weep: 
 Entranc'd, the spirit loves to lie 
 As long as — tears on Memory's eye: 
 But when a week or two go by. 
 And the light laughter chokes the sigh, 
 Indignant from the tomb doth take 
 Its way to some remember'd lake. 
 Where oft — in life — with friends — it went 
 To bathe in the pure element. 
 And there, from the untrodden grass. 
 Wreathing for its transparent brow 
 Those flowers that say (ah hear them now!) 
 To the night-winds as they pass, 
 "Ai! ai! alas! — alas!" 
 Pores for a moment, ere it go. 
 On the clear waters there that flow. 
 Then sinks within (weigh'd down by wo) 
 Th' uncertain, shadowy heaven below. 
 
 The lady sleeps: oh! may her sleep 
 
 As it is lasting so be deep — 
 
 No icy worms about her creep: 
 
 I pray to God that she may lie 
 
 Forever with as calm an eye. 
 
 That chamber chang'd for one more holy — 
 
 That bed for one more melancholy. 
 
 Far in the forest, dim and old. 
 For her may some tall vault unfold. 
 Against whose sounding door she hath thrown. 
 In childhood, many an idle stone — 
 Some tomb, which oft hath flung its black 
 And vampyre-winged pannels back, 
 riutt'ring triumphant o'er the palls 
 Of her old family funerals. 
 
 Variations from the above : — ■ 
 1-2. I stand beneath the soaring moon 
 
 At midnight in the month of June. S. L. M.; MS. 
 
NOTES 239 
 
 3-8. omitS.L. M.;iO.<to;yon. S.L.M.-.lieiMS.iiS. brishtpines: 
 cedars. S.h.M.; 20. reels with bliss, noddingha-ngs. S. L. M.; 21. Abov? 
 yon cataract of Serangs. S. L. M. 
 
 23-24. With : her ; transpose, MS.; 25 substitute: — 
 And hark the sounds so low yet clear, 
 (Like music of another sphere) 
 Which steal within the slumberer's ear, 
 Or so appear — or so appear! S. L. M. 
 
 35. Insert: — 
 
 "So fitfully, so fearfully. S. L. M. 
 
 36. Like ; As. S. L. M.; 37 substitute: — 
 "That o'er the floor, and down the wall, 
 "Like ghosts the shadows rise and fall — 
 "Then, for thine own all radiant sake, 
 
 "Lady, awake! awake! awake! " S. L. M.; MS. 
 
 37. That o'er the floor: thro' the floors. MS. 
 
 39. All radiant : beloved. MS. 
 
 40. Awake! Awake: Lady awake. MS. 
 40-58. Omit. S. L. M. 
 
 48. Some remember'd like : Heaven and sorrows forsake. MS. 
 49-59- Omit MS. 
 
 72. Winged: Wing-like. S. L. M.; MS. 
 Note : In a letter to R. W. Griswold dated April 19, 1845, Poe states, 
 "In 'The Sleeper' the line Forever with unclosed eye, should read: 
 ' Forever with unopen'd eye.' 
 
 " Is it possible to make the silteration ? " This was never corrected by 
 Griswold. 
 
 Foe's manuscript of this poem written in the album of his poet friend, 
 John C. McCabe, is now in the possession of Captain W. Gordon Mc- 
 Cabe of Richmond, Virginia. It is headed "Irene the Dead" and signed 
 E. A. Poe. The handwriting is approximately the same as that in the 
 manuscript of the " Spiritual Song." 
 
 THE COLISEUM 
 
 The Baltimore Saturday Morning Visiter, 1833; Southern Literary 
 Messenger, title (The CoUseum, A Prize Poem), August, 1835; Phila- 
 delphia Saturday Evening Post, June 12, 1841, with subtitle (A Prize 
 Poem); "The Poets and Poetry of America," 1842, title (Coliseum); 
 
240 NOTES 
 
 Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March 4, 1843; 184s; Broadway Jour- 
 nal, II. I. 
 
 Text, 1845. 
 Variations from the text: — 
 I. The: Omit. S. M. V. 
 8. Thy: the. So drink: the dank. S. M. V. 
 Amid: Within. P. P. A. 
 II. Insert after: — 
 
 Gaunt vestibules! and phantom peopled aisles! S. L. M. 
 
 20. Gilded : yellow. S. L. M. 
 
 21. Insert after: — 
 
 Here, where on ivory couch the Caesar sate. 
 
 On bed of moss lies gloating the foul adder. S. L. M. 
 
 22. Monarch lolled : Czesar sate. P. P. A. 
 23-24. On bed of moss lies gloating the foul, adder! 
 
 Here where on ivory couch the Monarch loll'd. P. P. A. 
 26. Butstay — (tee; These crumbling; ivy clad: tottering. S.L.M.; 
 
 But hold! — these dark, these perishing arcades." P. P. A. 
 28. Crumbling: broken. S. L. M.; P. P. A. 
 31. Famed: Great. S. L. M.; proud. P. P. A. 
 
 35. Unto : to. P. P. A. 
 
 36. Melody : in old days. S. L. M. 
 39. Impotent: desolate. S. L. M. 
 
 34. To end, except after glory, 1. 46, omit quotation marks. 
 S. L. M. 
 
 Note : This was the poem offered for the prize in the Baltimore Saturday 
 Morning Visiter. 
 
 The first nine lines of the poem are printed in The Bibliophile, of Lon- 
 don, England, for May, 1909, from a fragment of a Poe MS. The only 
 variation is, " stand " for "kneel" in the seventh line. It is stated there 
 that no proof exists that the poem was published earlier than August, 
 1835, when it was issued in the Southern Literary Messenger. A copy of 
 an early text from the Baltimore Saturday Morning Visiter is now in our 
 possession from Professor J. H. Hewitt, who was the editor, and received 
 the prize for the competing poem. The variant readings of same are 
 given here tor the first time. 
 
 The MS. in The Bibliophile is evidently a portion of the MS. of " Poli- 
 tian " — which ended with some of the lines from this poem. 
 
NOTES 241 
 
 LENORE 
 
 The Pioneer, February, 1843; Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March 
 4, 1843; Graham's Magazine, February, 1845; Broadway Journal, II. 6. 
 "A Pffian," 1831; Southern Literary Messenger, January, 1836; Richmond 
 Whig, September 18, 1849; Richmond Examiner, October, 1849. 
 Text, Richmond Whig. 
 
 Variations from the text: — 
 
 I. 5. Come : Ah. G. M. 
 
 II. I. And ye : ye out all others. 
 3. Shall : no italics. G. M. 
 
 III. I. Yet: but; but: and all others. 
 
 3. Gone before: quotation marks all others. 
 
 5. Debonair: Italics all others. 
 
 IV. r . to friends, from fiends : from fiends below. J. Lorimer Graham, 
 
 i84S- 
 
 2. Utmost : out all others 
 
 3. Moan: Grief. J. Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 
 4. no : no itaUcs. J. Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 
 6. no : No all others. 
 
 The earliest version, 1831, is as follows: the readings of the Southern 
 Literary Messenger being noted below: — 
 
 A P/EAN 
 
 How shall the burial rite be read? 
 
 The solemn song be sung? 
 The requiem for the loveliest dead, 
 
 That ever died so young? 
 
 Her friends are gazing on her, 
 And on her gaudy bier. 
 
 And weep! — oh! to dishonor 
 Dead beauty witc a tear! 
 
242 NOTES 
 
 They loved her for her wealth — 
 And they hated her for her pride — 
 
 But she grew in feeble health. 
 And they love her — that she died. 
 
 They tell me (while they speak 
 Of her "costly broider'd pall") 
 
 That my voice is growing weak — 
 That I should not sing at all — 
 
 Or that my tone should be 
 Tun'd to such solemn song 
 
 So mournfully — so mournfully, 
 That the dead may feel no wrong. 
 
 But she is gone above. 
 
 With young Hope at her side. 
 And I am drunk with love 
 
 Of the dead, who is my bride. ^ 
 
 Of the dead — dead who lies 
 
 All perfum'd there, 
 With the death upon her eyes. 
 
 And the life upon her hair. 
 
 Thus on the coffin loud and long 
 
 I strike — the murmur sent 
 Through the gray chambers to my song. 
 
 Shall be the accompaniment. 
 
 Thou died'st in thy life's June — 
 But thou didst not die too fair: 
 
NOTES 243 
 
 Thou didst not die too soon. 
 Nor with too calm an air. 
 
 From more than fiends on earth, 
 Thy life and love are riven, 
 
 To join the untainted mirth 
 Of more than thrones in heaven - 
 
 Therefore, to thee this night 
 
 I will no requiem raise. 
 But waft thee on thy flight 
 
 With a Psean of old days. 
 
 n. 4. Dead : Her. 
 
 VII. I. dead who: dead — who. 
 
 2. perjum'd there : motionless. 
 4. her hair : each tress. 
 
 VIII. Omit. 
 
 IX. 1-2. In June she died : in June 
 
 Of life — beloved and fair. 
 
 3. Thou didst : But she did. 
 
 X. Thy life and love are : Helen, thy soul is. 
 3. untainted: all-hallowed. 
 
 The Pioneer version, 1843, is as follows; the Saturday Museum text is 
 made up of two lines less and the readings are noted below: — 
 
 LENORE 
 
 Ah, broken is the golden bowll 
 
 The spirit flown forever! 
 Let the bell toll! — A saintly soul 
 
 Glides down the Stygian river 1 
 And let the burial rite be read — 
 
 The funeral song be sung — 
 A dirge for the most lovely dead 
 That ever died so young! 
 And, Guy De Vere, 
 
244 NOTES 
 
 Hast thou no tear? 
 
 Weep now or nevermore! 
 See, on yon drear 
 And rigid bier. 
 
 Low lies tliy love Lenoret 
 
 "Yon heir, whose cheeks of pallid hue. 
 With tears are streaming wet. 
 Sees only, through 
 Their crocodile dew, 
 A vacant coronet — 
 False friends! ye loved her for her wealth 
 
 And hated her for pride. 
 And, when she fell in feeble health. 
 Ye blessed her — that she died. 
 \ How shdl the ritual, then, be read? 
 The requiem how be sung 
 For her most wrong'd of all the dead 
 That ever died so young?" 
 
 Peccavimus I 
 But rave not thus! 
 
 And let the solemn song 
 Go up to God so mournfully that she may feel no wrongi 
 The sweet Leuore 
 Hath "gone before" 
 
 With young hope at her side. 
 And thou art wild 
 For the dear child 
 That should have been thy bride — 
 For her, the fair 
 And debonair. 
 
 That now so lowly lies — 
 The life still there 
 Upon her hair. 
 
 The death upon her eyes. 
 
 " Avaunt! — to-night 
 My heart is light — 
 
245 
 
 NOTES 
 
 No dirge will I upraise, 
 But waft the angel on her flight 
 With a Piean of old days! 
 Let no bell toll! 
 Lest her sweet soul. 
 
 Amid its hallow'd mirth. 
 Should catch the note 
 As it doth float 
 Up from the damned earth — 
 
 To friends above, from fiends below, 
 Th' indignant ghost is riven — 
 From grief and moan 
 To a gold throne 
 Beside the King of Heaveal " 
 
 I. 4. Glides down : Floats on. 
 
 n. II. how: no italics.' 
 
 Other readings are: — 
 
 IV.: 
 "Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise. 
 "But waft the angel on her flight with a paean of old days! 
 "Let no bell toll! — lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth, 
 "Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damn6d Earth. 
 "To friends above, 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." 
 — 1845. G. M.; B.J. 
 
 7. Grief: moan. B. J.; G. M. 
 
 Notes : The Richmond Examiner text follows the text with slight punc- 
 tuation changes. In that newspaper j?as published October 12, 1849, a 
 statement from Poe made to J. M. Daniel, that Mrs. Shelton to whom he 
 was betrothed was "his ideal and the original of Lenore." 
 
 In a review of Amelia, Welby 's poem in the Democratic Review, of De- 
 cember, 1844, Poe said: "Her tone is not so much tlie tone of passion, as 
 of a gentle and melancholy regret, interwoven with a pleasant sense of the 
 natural loveliness surrounding the lost in the tomb, and a memory of her 
 beauty while alive — Elegiac poems should either assume this character, 
 or dwell purely on the beauty (moral or physical) of the departed, or bet- 
 
246 NOTES 
 
 ter still, utter the note of triumph. I have endeavored to carry out this 
 latter idea in some verses which I have called 'Lenore.' " 
 
 In his criticism on H. B. Hirst, in Griswold, 1850, Poe quotes the last 
 three lines of the second stanza of " Lenore," and states that it was first 
 published in 1830. The first known version was one year later. The 
 manuscript in Poe's autograph of this criticism was among the papers of 
 the late E. C. Stedman. Poe sent it to Graham's Magazine, but it was not 
 published. 
 
 In his " Marginalia " in the Southern Literary Messenger, May, 1849, 
 Poe quotes the first two lines of stanza four of "Lenore" and uses the 
 " 1845 " text, which would indicate that his final revision of the poem was 
 made late in that year. 
 
 In a letter to R. W. Griswold, no date (1849), Poe enclosed a copy of 
 "Lenore" for a new edition of "The Poets and Poetry of America," and 
 stated, "I would prefer the concluding stanza to run as here written.'' 
 The J. Lorimer Graham edition of 1845 with corrections in Poe's hand 
 was not in Griswold's possession prior to the issue of his first Poe vol- 
 umes, Neilson Poe having failed to send it as promised. The text of 
 stanza four of the poem is largely a reconstruction of the elements in 
 the Broadway Journal version d that stanza. 
 
 HYMN 
 
 Poe MS. [Morellal about 1832-33; Southern Literary Messenger, April, 
 183s [Morella]; Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, November, 1839 (Mo- 
 rella]; "Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque," 1840 [Morella]; 1843; 
 Broadway Journal, II. 6. 
 
 Text, 1845- 
 Variations from the text : — 
 Insert before: — 
 
 Sancta Maria! turn thine eyes 
 Upon the sinner's sacrifice 
 Of fervent prayer, and humble love. 
 From thy holy throne above. S. L. M.; MS.; B. G. 
 M.; except 2, the: a. B. G. M., 1840. 
 
 S. the : my; brightly ; gently. S. L. M.; B. G. M.; MS. 6. not a cloud 
 obscured : no storms were in. S. L. M.; B. G. M.; MS. 8. grace : love. 
 S. L. M.; B. G. M.; MS. 9. storms: clouds. S. L. M.; B. G. M.; MS. 
 10. Darkly: All. S. L. M.; B. G. M. 
 
NOTES 247 
 
 Note: Poe struck out the word "Catholic" from the title of this 
 poem in the J. Lorimer Graham copy of the 1845 poems. 
 
 ISRAFEL 
 
 1831; Southern Literary Messenger, August, 1836; Graham's Magazine, 
 October, 1841; Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March 4, 1843; 1845; 
 Broadway Journal, II. 3. Richmond Examiner, October, 1849. 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 II. 6. Transpose with 8. G. M. 
 
 ni. 4. Owing to : due unto. G. M. 
 
 6. The: That. Wire: Lyre. G. M. 
 
 7. Of: With. G. M. 
 
 IV. I. Skies : Heavens. G. M. 
 
 3. Grownup: Grovin. Loves :IjOve is. G. M. Where: And. S. M.; 
 B.J. 
 
 4. Where: And. S. M.; B.J. 
 6. Insert after: — 
 
 The more lovely, the more far! G. M. 
 
 V. I. Thou art not, therefore. S. M.; B. J; G. M. 
 VIII. I. Could: did. G. M. 
 
 4. So wildly : one half so. G. M. 
 S- One half so passionately. G. M. 
 Note : In the Broadway Journal, Poe's quotation in the footnote is at- 
 tributed to Sale's Koran. In Graham's Magazine, it reads "And the 
 angel Israfel, or Israfeli whose heart-strings are a lute, and who is the 
 most musical of all God's creatures," Koran. 
 The 1831 version reads as follows: — 
 
 In Heaven a spirit doth dwell 
 Whose heart-strings are a lute — 
 None sing so wild — so well 
 As the angel Israfel — 
 And the giddy stars are mute. 
 
 * And the angel Isralsl, who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures. 
 
248 NOTES 
 
 II 
 Tottering above 
 In her highest noon 
 The enamoured moon 
 Blushes with love — 
 While, to listen, the red levin 
 Pauses in Heaven. 
 
 And they say (the starry choir 
 And all the listening things) 
 That Israfeli's fire 
 Is owing to that lyre 
 With those unusual strings. 
 
 rv 
 
 But the Heavens that angel trod 
 Where deep thoughts are a duty - 
 Where Love is a grown god — 
 Where Hour! glances are — 
 Stay! turn thine eyes afar! — 
 Imbued with all the beauty 
 Which we worship in yon star. 
 
 Thou art not, therefore, wrong 
 Israfeli, who despisest 
 An unimpassion'd song: 
 To thee the laurels belong 
 Best bard, — because the wisest. 
 
 The extacies above 
 With thy burning measures suit 
 Thy grief — if any — thy love 
 With the fervor of thy lute — 
 Well may the stars be mute! 
 
NOTES 249 
 
 VII 
 
 Yes, Heaven is thine: but this 
 Is a woild of sweets and sours: 
 Our flowers are merely — flowers, 
 And the shadow of thy bliss 
 Is the sunshine of ours. 
 
 If I did dwell where Israfel 
 
 Hath dwelt, and he where I, 
 
 He would not sing one half as well — 
 
 One half as passionately, 
 
 While a stormier note than tliis would swell 
 
 From my lyre within the sky. 
 
 Variations of Southern Literary Messenger from above : — 
 IV. s- Omit. 7. yon : a ; VIII. 4- 5o ; As ; 5. While a stormier : And 
 a loftier. 
 
 DREAM-LAND 
 
 Graham's Magazine, June, 1844; 184s; Broadway Journal, I. 26; Rich- 
 mond Examiner, October 29, 1849. 
 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 12. dews : tears. J. Lorimer Graham, 1845. 
 20. Insert after 1-6. except s, read my home for these lands and 
 6. this for an. G. M. 
 
 25. Mountain. G. M.; B. J. 
 38. earth : worms. G. M.; B. J. 
 
 Insert after 1-6. except s. read journeyed home for reached these 
 lands and 6. this for an. G. M. 
 
 42. 0! it is: 'Tis — oh, 'tis, all others. 
 47. Its: the. G. M.;B. J. 
 SO. Beholds: Beyond. E. 
 Note : Poe used lines nine to twelve of this poem with slight variations 
 in his early poem on " Fairy-Land." 
 
250 NOTES 
 
 SONNET— TO ZANTE 
 
 Southern Literary Messenger, January, 1837; Poe MS., 1840; Philadel- 
 phia Saturday Museum, March 4, 1843; 184s; Broadway Journal, II. 2.. 
 Text, 184s. 
 
 Note : The genn of this poem like others may be fomid in Poe's early 
 composition. See "Al Aaraaf," Part I. 
 
 "From struggling with the waters of the Rhone: — 
 And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zante! 
 Isolad'oro! — Fior di Levante!" 
 
 The MS. of this poem has an interesting history. The original own 
 was one of Poe's editors who gave his own recollections of Poe, but for 
 some reason failed to mention this incident. 
 
 R. H. Stoddard made a request of Poe for his autograph, and in a letter 
 dated Philadelphia, November 6, 1840, Poe expressed himself as much 
 gratified at the request, "and now hasten to comply by transcribing a 
 sonnet of my own composition." The letter and manuscript of the poem 
 were included in a sale of Mr. Stoddard's books by the late E. C. Sted- 
 man, his executor, who related the incident as above. 
 
 The text of the MS. poem only varies from others in the omission of 
 italics and a few punctuation changes. 
 
 THE CITY IN THE SEA 
 
 American Whig Remew (sub-title, "A Prophecy"), April, 1845; 184s; 
 Broadway Journal, II. 8. "The Doomed City," 1831; "The City of Sin," 
 Southern Literary Messenger, August, 1836. 
 Text, 1845. 
 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 3. Far off in a region unblest. A. W. R. 
 
 4. And: where. S. L. M. 
 14-19. Omit. S. L. M. 
 
 20. No holy rays from heaven come down. S. L. M. 
 
 22. But light from out the lurid sea. S. L. M. 
 
 25. Around the mournful waters lie. A. W. R. 
 
 28-35. Omit A. W. R. 
 
 36. For no : No murmuring. A. W. R. 
 
 39. Some : a. A. W. R. 
 
 41. Seas less hideously : oceans not so sad. A. W. R. 
 
NOTES 251 
 
 The 1831 version reads as follows: — 
 
 THE DOOMED CITY 
 
 Lo! Death hath reai'd himself a throne 
 
 In a strange city, all alone, 
 
 Far down within the dim west — 
 
 And the good, and the bad, and the worst, and the best, 
 
 Have gone to their eternal rest. 
 
 There shrines and palaces and towers 
 Are — not lilie anything of ours — 
 0! no — O! no — ours never loom 
 To heaven with that ungodly gloom 1 
 Time-eaten towers that tremble notl 
 Around, by lifting winds forgot. 
 Resignedly beneath the sky 
 The melancholy waters lie. 
 A heaven that God doth not contemn 
 With stars is like a diadem — 
 We Uken our ladies' eyes to them — 
 But there! That everlasting pall! 
 It would be mockery to call 
 Such dreariness a heaven at all. 
 
 Yet tho' no holy rays come down 
 
 On the long night-time of that town. 
 
 Light from the lurid, deep sea 
 
 Streams up the turrets silently — 
 
 Up thrones — up long-forgotten bowers 
 
 Of sculptur'd ivy and stone flowers — 
 
 Up domes — up spires — up kingly halls — 
 
 Up fanes — up Babylon-like walls — 
 
 Up many a melancholy shrine 
 
 Whose entablatures intertwine 
 
 The mask — the viol — and the vine. 
 
 There open temples — open graves 
 Are on a level with the waves — 
 But not the riches there that lie 
 In each idol's diamond eye. 
 
252 NOTES 
 
 Not the gayly-jewell'd dead 
 
 Tempt the waters from their bed: 
 
 For no ripples curl, alas! 
 
 Along that wilderness of glass — 
 
 No swellings hint that winds may be 
 
 Upon a far-off happier sea: 
 
 So blend the turrets and shadows there 
 
 That all seem pendulous in air. 
 
 While from the high towers of the town 
 
 Death looks gigantically down. 
 
 But lol a stir is in the air! 
 
 The wave! there is a ripple there! 
 
 As if the towers had thrown £iside. 
 
 In slightly sinking, the dull tide — 
 
 As if the turret-tops had given 
 
 A vacuum in the filmy heaven: 
 
 The waves have now a redder glow — 
 
 The very hours are breathing low — 
 
 And when, amid no earthly moans, 
 
 Down, down that town shall settle hence. 
 
 Hell rising from a thousand thrones 
 
 Shall do it reverence. 
 
 And Death to some more happy clime 
 
 Shall give his undivided time. 
 
 Note : The earliest form of this poem is found in the first thirty-nine 
 lines of " Al Aaraaf," Part 11, with note "0, the Wave." 
 
 TO ONE IN PARADISE 
 
 Southern Literary Messenger, "The Visionary," July, 183s; Broadway 
 Journal, 1. 19, 1. 23, "The Assignation "; "To lanthe in Heaven," Bur- 
 ton's Gentleman's Magazine, July, 1839; Tales, "The Visionary," 1840; 
 Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March4, 1843 ; 184S ; Godey's Lady's Book, 
 "The Visionary," January, 1834. 
 
 Text, J. Lorimer Graham copy 1845. 
 
 Variations jrom the text : — 
 
 I. I. That all: all that, all others. 
 
 S- With fairy fruits and : round with wild. Go. around about with. 
 S. L. M.; B. G. M.; 1840. 
 
NOTES 253 
 
 6. All Ihe flowers : the flowers — they all. S. L. M.; B.G.M.; 1840. 
 
 II. I. But the dream — it could not last. Go.; S. L. M.; B. G. M.; 
 1840. 
 
 2. Young Hope! thou didst arise. Go. And the star of Hope did rise. 
 S. L. M.; B. G. M.; 1840. Ah: Oh. S. M. 
 
 5. "Ont on" — but: "Onward." Go.; S. L. M.; B. G. M.; 1840; 
 B. J. but: while. Go.; S. L. M.; B. G. M.; 1840. 
 
 III. 2. Ambition — all — is o'er. Go.; S. L. M.; B. G. M.; 1840. 
 
 4. Solemn : breaking. Go. 
 
 IV. I. Days: hours. Go.;S.L.M.;B.G.M.;i840. And: now. B.J. 
 
 3. Grey: dark, all others. 
 
 S-6. In the maze of flashing dances 
 By the slow Italian streams. Go. 
 
 6. Eternal: Italian. Go.; S.L. M.;i840; B.J. What: tax. Go. 
 Insert after: — 
 
 Alas! for that accursed time 
 They bore thee o'er the billow, 
 From Love to titled age and crime 
 And an unholy pillow — 
 From me, and from our misty clime 
 Where weeps the silver willow. S. L. M.; 1840; Go. ex- 
 cept: — 
 
 3. Love: me. 
 
 5. me: Love. 
 
 The Literary World of February S> 1853, reprinted from the London 
 Spectator, January i, i8S3, a manuscript version of this poem. The cor- 
 respondent had supposed the lines to be by Tennyson, and charged Poe 
 with plagiarism. Tennyson wrote to the Spectator, January 20, 1853, 
 correcting the statement. The text of the manuscript follows the South- 
 ern Literary Messenger, except: — 
 
 I. 1. That: Omit. 
 
 II. 2. And the star of life did rise. 
 3. But: only. 
 
 III. 1-5. Like the murmur of the solemn sea 
 
 To sands on the sea-shore 
 A voice is whispering unto me 
 
 "The day is past," and nevermore. 
 
 IV. 1. And all mine hours. 
 2. Nightly: nights are. 
 
254 NOTES 
 
 3. Are: of. 
 
 S-6. In the maze of flashing dances 
 By the slow Italian streams. 
 
 EULALIE— A SONG 
 
 American Whig Review (sub-title "A Song "), July, 184S; Broadway 
 Journal, 11. S; 184S. 
 
 Text, 1845. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 II. 6. morn tints. A. W. R. 
 
 III. 4. And: while. A. W. R.; B. J. 
 
 7. While: And. A. W. R.; B. J. 
 
 8. While: And. A. W. R.; B. J. 
 
 TO F s S. O d 
 
 184S; "Lines Written in an Album," Southern Literary Messenger, 
 
 September, 183s, "To " Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, August, 
 
 1839, "To F ," Broadway Journal, II. 10, lines 1-4. 
 
 Text, i84S- 
 Variations from the text : — 
 I. Eliza let thy generous heart. S. L..M. 
 
 Fair maiden let thy generous heart. B. G. M. 
 
 6. Grace, thy more than: unassuming. S. L. M.; B. G. M. 
 
 7. Shall be an endless: And truth shall be a. S. L. M. Thy truth 
 — shall be a. B. G. M. 
 
 8. Forever — and love a duty. S. L. M.; B. G. M. 
 
 Note: The poem was addressed to Frances S. Osgood by Poe in 1845. 
 The lines were also written in his wife's albun;. Her name was Virginia 
 Eliza Clemm. 
 
 TO F 
 
 1S45; Broadway Journal, I. 17, "To Mary " ; Southern Literary Mes- 
 senger, July, 183s, "To One Departed"; Graham's Magazine, March, 
 1842; Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March 4, 1843. 
 Text, 1845. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 I. I. Mary amid the cares — the woes. S. L. M. 
 
 For 'mid the earnest cares and woes. G. M.; S. M. 
 
NOTES 255. 
 
 2. That crowd: crowding. S. L. M. 
 
 3. Drear: sad. S. L. M.; G. M.; S. M. 
 7. Bland : sweet. S. L. M. 
 
 II. I. And thus: Seraph. G. M.; S. M. 
 
 4. Some lake beset as lake can be. S. L. M. 
 
 throbbing far and free : vexed as it may be. G. M.; S. M. 
 Reverse the order of stanzas. G. M.; S. M. 
 
 SONNET — SILENCE 
 
 Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, April, 1840; Philadelphia Saturday 
 Museum, March 4, 1843; 1845; Broadway Journal, II. 3. 
 Text, 1845. 
 Variations of B.G. M. from the text : — 
 a. Which thus is : life aptly. 
 3. A : The. 
 9. No more : italics. 
 
 12. Untimely lot: no parenthesis. 
 
 13. Shadow: italics. 
 
 14. That: who; /o»e; dim. 
 
 Notes : There are several early references to " Silence "in " Al Aataaf ." 
 In Part I appears: — 
 
 "Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call 
 "Silence," — which is the merest word of all. 
 All Nature speaks, and even ideal things 
 Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings.'' 
 
 Foe's tale, " Silence. A Fable," which was originally published in 1839 
 as " Siope," contained the first two lines of the above quotation from 
 "Al Aaraaf." 
 
 A poem on "Silence," signed"?," as Poe had previously printed some 
 of his lines, appeared in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, for September, 
 1839, while he was editor. This was regarded as Poe's poem, until a recent 
 chance reference to William Sharp's " Sonnets of this Century" disclosed 
 the fact that it was Thomas Hood's sonnet. 
 
 Sharp's note, p. 297, referring to Hood's "Silence" (Nos. ciii-iv) says 
 it "should be compared with the following well-known sonnet by Edgar 
 Poe.'' He gives the lines of Poe's own "Silence," as first printed in Bur- 
 Ion's Gentleman's Magazine, for April, 1840, while Poe was still the editor. 
 
256 NOTES 
 
 Hood's lines on "Silence,'' most assuredly printed by Poeinthe Sep- 
 tember, iSsg, Burton's GenUcman's Magazine, ioWow Hood's text; except 
 in the eighth line, which has characteristic Foe punctuation. It seems a 
 question whether Poe was influenced by Hood's lines in writing his own 
 sonnet, or printed them as a hoax. If the latter had been his intention, as 
 was his custom he would have called attention to the matter after- 
 wards. The fact, however, that he remained quiet seven months and 
 then wrote his own'Iines would indicate that he hoped that his lines might 
 be compared with Hood's and cause public comment; or, like the lines of 
 Cone's " Proud Ladye,'' which he reviewed in Burton's Gentleman's Maga- 
 zine for July, 1840, and which are presumed to have inspired him to 
 write " The Conqueror Worm " six months afterwards. Hood's " Silence " 
 may have influenced him to some extent to write his own verse. 
 
 THE CONQUEROR WORM 
 
 Graham's Magazine, January, 1843; Philadelphia Saturday Museum, 
 March 4, 1843; 1845; Broadway Journal, I. 21; H. 12 "Ligeia" ; Poe 
 MS. ; Richmond Enquirer, October, 1849. 
 
 Text, Richmond Enquirer. 
 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 I. 3. An angel : A mystic. G. M.; S. M.; B. J. 
 
 II. 5. formless : shadowy. G. M. 
 
 IV. 7. seraphs : the angels, all others except J. L. G., 1845 edition. 
 
 V. 2. quivering: dying. G. M.; B. J. 
 
 S. while: And, all others, except J. L. G., 184S edition. Angels: 
 seraphs; pallid : haggard. G. M. 
 
 8. And: Omit. G. M.; S. M.; B. J. 
 
 Notes: In "Ligeia," in the Broadway Journal, Poe wrote "angels" in 
 the fourth line of the first stanza of this poem instead of " Mystic, " and in 
 the fourth verse changed " angels " to " seraph, "as he did in his later cor- 
 rections. 
 
 A MS. copy of the poem, originally sent to Griswold by Poe and noted 
 in Griswold's hand "Last poem sent by Poe," has been compared. It fol- 
 lows the early texts with slight punctuation changes. 
 
 In Poe's review of Spencer Wallace Cone's poems in Burton's Gentle- 
 man's Magazine, June, 1840, he says: "Here is a passage which breathes 
 the true soul of poetry, and gives evidence of a purity of taste as well as a 
 vigor of thought which may lead to high eminence in the end: — 
 
NOTES 257 
 
 Spread o'er his rigid form 
 The banner of his pride, 
 And let him meet the conqueror worm 
 With his good sword by liis side.' " 
 
 THE HAUNTED PALACE 
 
 Baltimore Museum, April, 1839; Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, "The 
 Fall of the House of Usher," September, 1839; Tales, "Fall of the 
 House of Usher,'' 1840; Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March 4, 
 1843; Graham's Magazine, February, 1845; 1845; Tales, 1845, "The 
 Fall of the House of Usher "; Richmond Examiner, October, 1849. 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 
 Variations from the text': — 
 
 I. 4. radiant: snow white. B. M.; 1840; B. G. M. 
 
 III. I. all wanderers. B. M. 
 
 8. ruler: sovereign. B. M.; B. G. M. 
 
 IV. S. sweet : sole. B. G. M. 
 
 VI. 2. encrimson'd: red litten, all others; S- ghastly rapid: rapid 
 ghastly. B. M.; B. G. M.; 1840; 1845. 
 
 Notes : In Graham's Magazine the fourth and sixth stanzas are entirely 
 in italics. The MS. of this poem is now complete, the first half, originally 
 in the possession of R. W. Griswold, having been found. It was evidently 
 sent to Griswold late in 1849, as it closely follows the text, and the J. Lori- 
 mer Graham edition of 1845, with Poe's corrections. The Griswold col- 
 lection now has only the last half, and the first part, supposed to have 
 been lost, has been found and was used in comparing the texts. 
 
 In Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, at the end of " The Fall of the House 
 of Usher," is the following note: "The ballad of 'The Haunted Palace' 
 introduced in this tale was published separately some months ago in the 
 Baltimore Museum." 
 
 In a letter to Griswold, March 29, 1841, Poe stated: "By The Haunted 
 Palace, I mean to imply a mind haunted by phantoms — a disordered 
 brain." 
 
 In " Marginalia " in the Southern Literary Messenger for May, 1849, 
 Poe quotes the first twelve lines of this poem, which follows the text, 
 except "Radiant Palace" is in parenthesis instead of lines eleven and 
 twelve. 
 
258 NOTES 
 
 SCENES FROM "POLITIAN" 
 
 AN UNPUBLISHED DRAMA 
 
 Southern Literary Messenger, December, 183s; January, 1836; 184S. 
 
 Text, 1845. 
 Variations of Southern Literary Messenger from the text: — 
 
 II. I. Rome. 184s. 
 
 114. this sacred : A vow — a. 
 
 III. I . Baldazzar : Baldazzar his friend. 
 7. surely: I live. 
 
 69. eloquent : voice — that. 
 
 70. surely I: I surely. 
 76. it : that lattice. 
 
 104. Believe me : Baldazzarl OhI 
 
 IV. S- sob : weep. 
 6. mourn: weep. 
 
 9. turn here thine eyes : and listen to me. 
 30. to me : speak not. 
 
 V. 7. Paradisal Hope : hopes — give me to live. 
 After so, insert: — 
 
 If that we meet at all, it were as well 
 That I should meet him in the Vatican — 
 In the Vatican — within the holy walls 
 Of the Vatican. 
 
 66. then at once : have at thee then. 
 
 72. thy sacred : hold off thy. 
 
 73. indeed I dare not : I dare not, dare not. 
 After 73, insert: — 
 
 Exceeding well! — thou darest not fight with me? 
 After 82, insert : — 
 
 Thou darest not I 
 84. my lord: alas! 
 86. the veriest : I am — a. 
 99. thou liest: By God; indeed — now this. 
 Notes : In the Southern Literary Messenger the title is " Scenes From An 
 Unpublished Drama,'' and begins with Part II, of the text. 
 A portion of the drama is quoted in the "Longfellow War, " Broadway 
 
NOTES 259 
 
 /(7urna2, March 29, 1S45. The lines about Jacinta and her mistress' jewels 
 in the second scene are changed, and the line "This sacred vow " changed 
 to "A pious vow." 
 
 The song in "Folitian " which Foe says is English has been identified. 
 It is among the poems of Sir Thomas Wyat, an early English poet. The 
 full text follows: — 
 
 "THE LOVER'S APPEAL 
 
 "And wilt thou leave me thus? 
 Say nay! say nay! tor shame, 
 To save thee from the blame 
 Of all my grief and grame. 
 And wilt thou leave me thus? 
 Say nay! say nay! 
 
 "And wilt thou leave me thus. 
 That hath loved thee so long. 
 In wealth and woe among? 
 And is thy heart so strong 
 As for to leave me thus? 
 Say nay! say nayl 
 
 "And wilt thou leave me thus, 
 That hath given thee my heart 
 Never for to depart 
 Neither for pain nor smart; 
 And wilt thou leave me thus? 
 Say nay! say nay! 
 
 "And wilt thou leave me thus, 
 And have no more pity 
 Of him that loveth thee? 
 Alas! thy cruelty! 
 And wilt thou leave me thus? 
 Say nay! say nay! " 
 
 The original manuscript of the drama of Politian is now in the Ubraty 
 of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., of New Yorlt. It was once in the possession 
 of Mrs. Lewis. The MS. consists of twenty folio pages, containing nearly 
 
260 NOTES 
 
 six hundred and fifty lines, but is not complete; some pages have gone 
 astray. At the top of the first page is the heading: — 
 "Politian — a tragedy 
 Scene — Rome in the — Century." 
 
 The drama ends with Politian, alone in the Coliseum at night, who utters 
 a characteristic soliloquy — nothing less than a portion of the well-known 
 lines from "The Coliseum.'' There are few alterations, but some inter- 
 lineations and lines marked out. At the head of the first extract printed 
 in the Southern Literary Messenger, Poe has written -in pencil "Scenes 
 from Politian. An unpublished Tragedy by Edgar A. Poe, Act II, Scene 
 3," which indicates that the MS. was evidently used for the Messenger 
 text — the variations having been made in proof. The manuscript was 
 probably written about 1831. A list of iheiramalis persona follows 
 the heading and shows four additional characters. It also describes the 
 characters "Lalage," an orphan and the ward of Di Broglio; Politian, "a 
 young and noble Roman"; Baldazzar, "his friend." The two latter 
 personages were subsequently transformed into the "Earl of Leicester" 
 and the "Duke of Surrey." 
 
 The first act is a scene in the palazzo of the Duke Di Broglio in an apart- 
 ment strewn with the debris of a protracted revel, with two of the Duke's 
 servants, Benito and Ugo, the latter intoxicated, who are joined by Ru- 
 pert a third servant. They discuss their master's son. Count Castiglione, 
 who was — 
 
 "Not long ago 
 A very nobleman in heart and deed." 
 
 But of his treatment of the beautiful lady Lalage, Rupert says: — 
 
 "His conduct there has damned him in my eyes." 
 
 "O villain! villain! she his plighted wife 
 And his own father's ward. I have noticed well 
 That we may date his ruin — so I call it — 
 His low debaucheries — his gaming habits — 
 And all his numerous vices from the time 
 Of that most base seduction and abandonment." 
 
 Benito: — 
 
 "The sin sits heavily on his soul 
 And goads him to these courses." 
 
NOTES 261 
 
 They speak further of Castiglione's approaching nuptials with his 
 cousin Alessandra, who was " the bosom friend of the fair lady Lalage ere 
 this mischance.'' Benito and Rupert retire to bed and leave Ugo, who 
 while also about to depart meets Jacinta the maid servant of Lalage, with 
 whom he is enamored. She displays some jewels, and intimates that they 
 were given to her by Castiglione, but finally sets at rest the green-eyed 
 nionster, and ends the scene by confessing that they were given to her by 
 Mistress Lalage "as a free gift and for a marriage present." 
 
 The second scene introduces Castiglione and his evil genius the Count 
 San Ozzo, in the former's dressing room. The Count hints of the Duke's 
 keeping Lalage in seclusion, and hums: — 
 
 " Birds of so fine a feather. 
 And of so wanton eye. 
 Should be caged — should be caged — 
 Should be caged in all weather 
 Lest they fly." 
 
 To which Castiglione replies: — 
 
 "San Ozzo! you do her wrong — unmanly wrong! 
 Never in woman's breast enthroned sat 
 A purer heart 1 If ever woman fell 
 With an excuse for falling, it was she! 
 If ever plighted vows most sacredly — 
 Solemnly-sworn, perfidiously broken. 
 Will damn a man, that damned villain am I! 
 Young, ardent, beautiful — and loving well — 
 And pure as beautiful — how could she think — 
 
 "How could she dream, being herself all truth, 
 Of my black perfidy? Oh, that I were not 
 Castiglione, but some peasant hind; 
 The humble tiller of some humble field 
 That I dare be honest!" 
 
 San Ozzo: — 
 
 "Exceedingly fine! 
 I never heard a better speech in all my life. 
 Besides, you 're right. Oh, honesty 's the thingi 
 
262 NOTES 
 
 Honesty, poverty and true consent, 
 With the unutterable ecstasies. 
 Of bread, and milk and water!" 
 
 The third scene opens in a Hall in the Palace, and ^th minor altera- 
 tions is what is now the first published. The next scene opens with Di 
 Broglio and his son in conversation about Folitian. Castiglione "always 
 thought the Earl a gloomy man, but instead I have found him full of such 
 humor — such wit — such vim — such Sashes of merriment." 
 
 They are disturbed by the entrance of Folitian and Baldazzar. Casti- 
 glione attempts to introduce them to his father, but PoUtian suddenly re- 
 tires and is excused by Baldazzar, who claims for his friend sudden illness. 
 The scene which follows is the third published. The next third act of 
 the MS. is fourth of that pubUshed. The next, unpublished, shows 
 preparations for the wedding of Alessandra and Castighone, and the bad 
 treatment of Ugo by Jacinta. This is followed by scene s as published. A 
 long hiatus occurs in the MS., where scene S now ends with Castighone. 
 The whole of the first scene, 4th act, in which it is learned that Folitian 
 again met Castiglione and 
 
 "In the public streets 
 Called him a coward!" 
 
 is missing, as also the first thirty-seven lines of the succeeding scene be- 
 tween San Ozzo and Ugo. The latter, apparently dejected by Jacinta's 
 treatment, attempts to commit suicide. San Ozzo remarks aside: — 
 
 "I 've heard before that such ideas as these 
 Have seized on human brains." 
 
 The third scene brings Politian alone in the moonlit Coliseum waiting 
 for Lalage, and with the soliloquy the MS. ends. 
 
 THE BELLS 
 
 Sarlain's Union Magazine, November, 1849. Richmond Examiner, 
 October, 1849. 
 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 
NOTES 263 
 
 Variations from Sartain's Union Magazine ; — 
 I. 3 . What : no italics. 
 II. 3. What: no italics. 
 12. What: no italics. 
 
 III. 3. What: no italics. 
 26. Yes: Yet. 
 
 IV. 3. What: no italics. 
 
 Notes : Sartain's Union Magazine, December, 1849. 
 
 "The singular poem of Mr. Poe's, called ' The Bells,' which we published 
 in our last number, has been very extensively copied. There is a curious 
 piece of literary history connected with this poem, which we may as well 
 give now as at any other time. It illustrates the gradual development 
 of an idea in the mind of a man of original genius. This poem came into 
 our possession about a year since. It then consisted of eighteen lines I They 
 were as follows: — 
 
 "the bells. — A SONG 
 
 "The bells! — hear the bells! 
 The merry wedding bells! 
 The little silver bells! 
 How fairy-like a melody there swells 
 From the silver tinkling cells 
 Of the bells, bells, bells! 
 Of the bells! 
 
 "The bells! — ah, the bells! 
 The heavy iron bells! 
 Hear the tolling of the bells! 
 Hear the knells! 
 How horrible a monody there floats 
 From their throats — 
 From their deep-toned throats! 
 How I shudder at the notes 
 
 From the melancholy throats 
 Of the bells, bells, bells! 
 Of the bells! 
 
 "About sue months after this we received the poem enlarged and altered 
 nearly to its present size and form; and about three months since, the 
 
264 NOTES 
 
 author sent another alteration and enlargement, in which condition 
 the poem was left at the time of his death." 
 
 According to the above the last draft of "The Bells" was received 
 by Sarlain's Union Magazine, about September, 1849, at which period 
 Poe was revising his writings at Richmond, Virginia. The second draft, 
 much like the last, was sent to the same magazine in June, 1849, and 
 the eighteen lines about December, 1848. In Gill's Life of Poe, page 205, 
 it is stated that Poe composed and finished his greatest descriptive poem 
 "The Bells" in the spring of 1849, a study of which he had previously 
 made and sent to Sartain's Union Magazine. Ingram claims that it was 
 the Summer of 1848 and not the Autumn that Poe wrote the first draft 
 of " The Bells," at Mrs. Shew's residence. Professor Woodberry's revised 
 Life of Poe, page 295, volume ii, says, that according to Annie he fin- 
 ished "The Bells," presumably the second draft, February 6, 1849, and 
 on page 388, that he visited Lowell the last week in May, and there 
 wrote the last draft of "The Bells." 
 
 Poe in a letter to Annie, February 8, 1849, says, "The day before 
 I wrote a poem considerably longer than 'The Raven.' I call it 'The 
 Bells.' How I wish 'Annie' couldseeit. I think 'The Bells' will appear 
 in The American Review.'' 
 
 The second draft of "The Bells," claimed as sent to Sartain's Union 
 Magazine, was shorter than "The Raven," so upon Poe's evidence the 
 longer draft was made in February, 1 849, and it was his intention to send 
 it to the American Whig Review. F.W.Thomas states that he had a manu- 
 script copy of "The Bells " ; Griswold's, 1850, differs from Sartain's Union 
 Magazine text, and it would seem that the claim that Poe left at least four 
 manuscript copies of the poems is true. Only one copy, however, is known 
 in America at the present time, now in the library of J. Pierpont Morgan, 
 Esq., which lacks the last fourteen lines. A manuscript printed in a Lon- 
 don magazine, in facsimile, is said to be a second copy, but does not differ 
 materially from the American manuscript. In the original MS. the word 
 " bells" is repeated five times in the twelfth line of the first stanza and 
 twice in the line following. The same change is made in the corresponding 
 lines of the next stanza. In the third stanza, sixth line, the word " much " 
 is placed before "too." In the fifth line from the last of the stanza "clamor'' 
 was written and "anger" placed in the last line. The word "menace"in 
 the sixth line of the fourth stanza was originally written " meaning." The 
 eighth line of this stanza was first written "From out their ghostly throats," 
 and the eleventh line changed twice, reading first " Who live up in the 
 
NOTES 265 
 
 steeple," which was changed to " They that sleep,'" and finally "dwell" 
 was printed instead of "sleep." After the eighteenth line, the following 
 line was struck out: — 
 
 "But are pestilential carcasses disparted from their souls." 
 
 For this "They are ghouls" was substituted. The Stedman and Wood- 
 berry and Virginia Poe editions of the poems give Sartain's Union 
 Magazine as their authorized text, but none of them agree. 
 
 F. W. Thomas, Recollections of E. A. Poe, states that the germ of this 
 poem like most others was formed very early in Poe's career. In 
 some manner Thomas had obtained possession of Poe's early "Margina- 
 lia Book " used by the poet while engaged on the Southern Literary Mes- 
 senger. In a written statement made to me by John W. Fergusson, an 
 apprentice, employed on the Southern Literary Messenger, and who car- 
 ried proof sheets to Poe's home and helped celebrate his marriage in Rich- 
 mond, it is claimed that the book was left at the Messenger office by 
 Poe and was his property many years, but went astray. 
 
 Among the clippings in this book was one with a reference to "Bells" 
 which Poe afterwards used again in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine. This 
 clipping from Poulson's Philadelphia American Daily Advertiser about 
 the Autumn of 1833 when Poe was engaged upon same is now in my 
 possession. It is under the heading of VARIETIE.S, followed by the 
 quotation: — 
 
 "Trahit quod cunque potest, atque addit acervo." 
 
 It reads: "Bells. — Bells were first brought into use by St. Faulinus, 
 Bishop of Nola (409) in the Campania of Rome; hence a bell was called 
 Nola or Campagna. At first they were called saints: hence coc-saint, or 
 toe-sin, in process of time. But Pliny reports that, many ages before his 
 time bells were in use, and called Tintin-nabula; and Suetonius says that 
 Augustine had one put at the gate of the Temple of Jupiter, to call the 
 meeting of the people." This was followed by a paragraph on the use of 
 "Accents and Points.'' 
 
 Poe told Thomas that the " Chimes " by Dickens was his final inspira- 
 tion to write his poem of "The Bells." That story left a deep impression 
 on his mind after reading a copy sent him from abroad, and he reprinted 
 it entire into the Mirror, probably its first publication in America. 
 
 He said : " Thomas, that ghostly story with beleaguered phantoms 
 and goblins — up, up, up, up. — higher, high, high, higher up — haunted 
 
266 NOTES 
 
 me day and night." A bell never sounded in his ear but he heard those 
 chimes — "high, high, higher up," which afterwards took the form in his 
 own poem of leaping — " high, higher, higher." " Many a time, " continued 
 Thomas, " after the din and clamor of some bells had died away he would 
 say to his wife Virginia and Mrs. Clemm — 'I will have to do something 
 to get those noisy creatures out of my way; they creep into my brain — 
 confuse and disorder my ideas.' " 
 
 He gave this as an explanation for the lines in the American Whig Re- 
 view, of April, 184s, in his poem of "The Valley of Unrest," which he 
 afterwards suppressed: — 
 
 "They wave; they weep; and the tears as they well 
 From the depth of each pallid lily-bell, 
 Give a trickle and a tinkle and a knell." 
 
 While the subject continually haunted his imagination Thomas states 
 that it only assumed definite shape early in 1848. In two early numbers 
 of the Union Magazine, Poe had observed several poems on "Bells," and 
 at once wrote a draft of his own "Bells." When about to send to the Un- 
 ion Magazine, he noticed an editorial note in same, calling attention to a 
 glut of manuscript on hand and suggesting a poem of twenty lines. Then he 
 wrote a short poem on "The Bells" and sent it in, but it never appeared. 
 He had rewritten the poem several times, had offered it to a number of 
 magazines, but was never able to get his price or have it accepted. Still 
 he always retained the greatest faith in the merits of the poem. Thomas 
 did not think that Sartain's Union Magazine ever accepted or paid Poe 
 for this poem. 
 
 John R. Thompson, in a notice in the Southern Literary Messenger, and 
 also John M. Daniel in the Richmond Examiner, shortly after Poe's 
 death, both state that it was the design of Poe, as he himself told them, to 
 express in language the exact sounds of bells to the ear. They thought 
 that he had succeeded far better than Southey, who attempted in a 
 similar feat to tell how the waters "come down at Lodore." 
 
 Mrs. William Wiley, the daughter of Mrs. Shew, wrote me that she re- 
 members how her mother told her that Poe wrote "The Bells'' at her 
 home. When a little girl going to school she was given some lessons on 
 Poe, and her mother gave her the written lines of "The Bells" by Poe, 
 to show her teacher. The manuscript was sold in New York at auction 
 some years ago. The lines read as follows : — > 
 
NOTES 267 
 
 " The bells! — ah, the bellsl 
 The little silver bells! 
 How fairy-like a melody there floats 
 
 From their throats — 
 From their merry little throats — 
 From the silver, tinliling throats 
 Of the bells, bells, bells — 
 Of the bells ! 
 
 "The bells! — ah, the bellsl 
 The heavy iron bells. 
 How horrible a monody there floats 
 
 From their throats — 
 From their deep-toned throats — 
 From their melancholy throats! 
 How I shudder at the notes 
 Of the bells, bells, bells — 
 Of the bells!" 
 
 The manuscript of these lines was sent by Mrs. Shew to Mr. J. H. 
 Ingram, of London, who, in his Life of Poe, states : "Poe wrote the first 
 rough draft of ' The Bells ' at Mrs. Shew's residence. ' One day he came in,' 
 she records in her diary, and said, ' Marie Louise, I have to write a poem ; I 
 have no feeling, no sentiment, no inspiration!' His hostess persuaded 
 him to have some tea. It was served in the conservatory, the windows of 
 which were open, and admitted the sound of neighboring church bells. 
 Mrs. Shew said playfully, 'Here is paper,' but the poet declining it de- 
 clared, T so dislike the noise of bells to-night, Icannot write, I have no sub- 
 ject — I am exhausted! ' The lady then took up the pen, and pretending 
 to mimic his style, wrote, 'The Bells by E. A. Poe,' and then in pure spor- 
 tiveness, ' The Bells, the little silver bells,' finishing off the stanza. She 
 then suggested for the next verse 'The heavy iron bells ! ' and this Poe 
 also expanded into a stanza. He next copied out the complete poem and 
 headed it, ' By Mrs. M. L. Shew, ' remarking that it was her poem, as she 
 had composed so much of it. Mrs. Shew continues, ' My brother came 
 in, and I sent him to Mrs. Clemm to tell her that " her boy would stay 
 in town, and was well." My brother took Mr. Poe to his own room, 
 where he slept twelve hours, and could hardly recall the evening's 
 work.' " 
 
268 NOTES 
 
 TO M. L. S 
 
 Poe's MS. To Mrs. M. L. S., February 14, 1847. Borne Journal, 
 March 13, 1847. 
 
 Text, Home Journal. 
 Variations in MS. from text : — 
 2. Thine: thy. 
 9. Lying : Laying them. 
 14. Resembles: approaches. 
 Notes: The poem was introduced in the Eome Journal as follows: — 
 "The following seems said over a hand clasped in the speaker's two. It 
 is by Edgar A. Poe, and is evidently the pouring out of a very deep feel- 
 ing of gratitude.'' The poem was sent to Mrs. Marie Louise Shew. The 
 manuscript copy dated February 14, 1847, is still in the possession oLher 
 daughter, Mrs. William Wiley, and was used in making comparisons of 
 the text. 
 
 TO 
 
 Columbian Magazine, Mardi, 1848. 
 
 Text, Columbian Magazine. 
 
 Notes : The tenth line of this poem is spoken by Lalage in " Pblitian,'' 
 and some portions of " Israfel " are in lines fourteen and fifteen. 
 
 Poe sent a MS. copy of this poem to Mrs. Shew. The first seven lines 
 follow the text. 
 
 TO MAEIE LOUISE 
 
 Two gentle sounds made only to be murmured 
 
 By angels dreaming in the moon-lit " dew 
 
 That hangs like chains of pearl on Hennon hill" 
 
 Have stirred from out the abysses of my heart 
 
 Unthought-like thoughts -^ scarcely the shades of thought — 
 
 Bewildering fantasies — far richer visions 
 
 Than even the seraph harper, Israfel, 
 
 Who "had the sweetest voice of all God's creatures," 
 
 Would hope to utter. Ah, Marie Louise! 
 
 In deep humility I own that now 
 
 AU pride — all thought of power — all hopes of fame — 
 
NOTES 269 
 
 All wish for Heaven — is merged forevermore 
 
 Beneath the palpitating tide of passion 
 
 Heaped o'er my soul by thee. Its spells are broken — 
 
 The pen falls powerless from my shivering hand — 
 
 With that dear name as text I cannot write — 
 
 I cannot speak — I cannot even think — 
 
 Alas! I cannot feel; for 't is nol feeling — 
 
 This standing motionless upon the golden 
 
 Threshold of the wide-open gates 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 the clouds of glory: far away 
 
 To where the prospect terminates — thee only. 
 
 SONNET (AN ENIGMA) 
 
 Sonnet, Union Magazine, March, 1848 ; Griswold, 1850 (An Enigma). 
 
 Text, Union Magazine. 
 Variation of Griswold from the text : — 
 10. Petrarchanities : tuckermanities. 
 Note : The first letter of the first line, the second letter of the second 
 Kne, etc., form the name Sarah Anna Lewis. 
 
 This poem was sent to Mrs. Lewis (Stella) in November, 1847, and 
 Griswold's text follows that manuscript. 
 
 "To Helen," Griswold, 1830. "The Poets and Poetry of America," 
 1855. Union Magazine, November, 1848. 
 
 Text, Union Magazine. 
 
 Variations of Gris^aold from text : — 
 26. Insert after me : (Oh Heaven! oh, God! How my heart beats in 
 coupling those two words!) 
 
 Notes : It is claimed that the lines given by Griswold were omitted 
 from the Union Magazine, without Poe's authority. There appears no 
 direct evidence for this however. The authority for Griswold's text 
 is not found — likewise his title "To Helen." He discarded his early 
 
270 NOTES 
 
 text, and followed that of the Union Magazine in revising his later edition 
 of "The Poets and Poetry of America." 
 
 Poe is presumed to have sent the lines for publication in the following 
 letter to Bayard Taylor, June 15, 1848: "I would feel greatly indebted 
 to you if you could spare the time to look over the lines enclosed and 
 let me Ijnow whether they will be accepted for 'the Union,' — if so 
 what you can afford to pay for them and when they can appear.'' 
 
 This poem was addressed to Mrs. Sarah Helen Whitman. In the 
 Union Magazine, line eighteen, the word " see " is printed for " saw." 
 
 A VALENTINE TO 
 
 Flag of Our Union, March 3, 1849; Sartain's Union Magaziw, March, 
 1849- 
 
 Text, Flag of Our Union. 
 Variations of Sartain's Union Magazine from the text: — 
 1 . These lines are : this rhyme is. 
 
 4. TAJj; the. 
 
 5. This rhyme, which holds: the lines! — they hold. 
 8. Letters themselves : Syllables! 
 
 12. Understand : corapxeheaA. 
 
 13. This page whereon : the leaf where now. 
 
 14. Eyes scintillating soul, there lie perdus. 
 
 15. A well-known name : Three eloquent words. 
 
 Notes: The text is followed by the words "Valentine Eve, 1849." 
 A manuscript copy among the Griswold papers is as follows: — 
 
 TO 
 
 For her these lines are penned, whose luminous eyes. 
 
 Bright and expressive as the stars of Leda, 
 Shall find her own sweet name, that, nestling, lies 
 
 Upon this page, enwrapped from every reader. 
 Search narrowly these words, which hold a treasure 
 
 Divine — a talisman — an amulet 
 That must be worn at heart. Search well the measure - 
 
 The words — the letters themselves. Do not forget 
 
NOTES 271 
 
 The smallest point, or you may lose your labor. 
 
 And yet there is in this no Gordian knot 
 Which one might not undo without a sabre 
 
 If one could merely comprehend the plot. 
 Upon the open page on which are peering 
 
 Such sweet eyes now, there lies, I say, perdu 
 A musical name oft uttered in the hearing 
 
 Of poets, by poets — for the name is a poet's too. 
 In common sequence set, the letters lying, 
 
 Compose a sound delighting all to hear — 
 Ah, this you 'd have no trouble in descrying 
 
 Were you not something of a dunce, my dear: — 
 And now I leave these riddles to their Seer. 
 Saturday, Feb. 14, 46. 
 
 The name Frances Sargent Osgood is spelled incorrectly in the above 
 Bnes. Another MS. copy in the Griswold collection dated Valentine's 
 Eve, 1848, shows the following variations from tiie above: — 
 
 A Valentine; By Edgar A. Poe. To : 
 
 1. these lines: this rhyme. 
 
 2. Brighl, stars, Leda : Brightly, twins Loeda. 
 
 4. this : the. 
 
 5. words, which: lines, they. 
 
 8. the letters themselves : the syllables. 
 
 9. smallest : trivialest. 
 
 13. Enwritten upon the leaf where now are peering. 
 
 14. Eyes scintillating soul, their lie perdus. 
 
 15. A musical name: Three eloquent words. 
 
 After 16: — 
 
 Its letters, although naturally lying 
 
 (Like the knight Pinto — Mendez Ferdinando — ) 
 
 Still form a synonym for Truth. — cease trying! 
 
 You will not read the riddle thougli you do the best you can do. 
 
 The following foreword appeared in the Flag of Our Union : — 
 
 "At a Valentine Soir6e, in New York, the following enigmatical lines 
 
 were received, among others, and read aloud to the company. The verses 
 
 were enclosed in an envelope, addressed 'TO HER WHOSE NAME IS 
 
 WRITTEN WITHIN.' As no lady present could so read the riddle as 
 
272 NOTES 
 
 to find her name wcitten in it the Valentine remained, and still remains, 
 unclaimed. Can any of our readers of the Flag discover for whom it is 
 intended ? " 
 
 After the poem was the following note: "Should there be no solution 
 furnished of the above, we will give the key next week." 
 
 It is evident that none of the readers sent in any answers, for in the 
 issue of March lo appears the following: — 
 
 " The Key to the Valentine. 
 
 " To transcribe the address of the Valentine which appeared in our last 
 paper from the pen of Edgar A. Poe, read the first letter of the first line 
 in connection with the second letter of the second line, the third letter 
 of the third line, the fourth of the fourth, and so on to the end. The name 
 of our contributor Frances Sargent Osgood will appear." 
 
 FOR ANNIE 
 
 Flag ofOw Union, April 28, 1849; Home Journal, April 28, 1849; Poe 
 MS. Griswold, 1850 ; "The Poets and Poetry of America," iSSS- Bich- 
 mond Examiner, October, 1849. 
 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 
 Variations from the text: — 
 
 II. i. Sadly I know I am. MS.; F. O. U. 
 
 Transpose stanzas IV and V, MS.; F. O. U. 
 
 IV. 3. Are quieted now with, MS.; Are quieted now; and the, F. 0. U. 
 
 4. That: the. MS.; HorribJe throbbing, F. O. U. 
 
 5. Ah: Oh. MS.; O, F. 0. U. 
 
 VI. 1. OA;Ah. MS.;F. O. U. 
 
 6. Passion: Glory. MS.; F. 0. U. 
 
 VII. 3- Spring: Fountain. F. O. U. 
 Vni. I. But: And. H. J.; Or.; P. P. A. 
 
 And ah! let it never be. MS.; F. 0. V. 
 
 2. Be; out. MS.; and F. O. U. 
 
 7. Sleep: italics out except Gr.; P. P. A. 
 DC. I. My tantaUzed spirit here. MS. 
 
 X. 2. //.-I. MS. 
 
 3. A holier odor about me. MS. 
 4- Of pansy. MS. 
 
 6. Pansies : pansy. MS. 
 
NOTES 273 
 
 XI. I. /(; I. MS. 
 
 3. Truth: love. MS.; F. 0. U. 
 
 XII. s- Deeply to sleep from the. MS.; F. 0. U. 
 
 6. From the: out. MS.; F. O. U. 
 
 XIV. 3-7. Omit parenthesis. F. O. U. 
 
 XV. 3. ln:ot. All others except Gr. ; Stars of the Heaven — for it. 
 MS. 
 
 S. Lisht: though. MS.; fire. F. 0. U. 
 
 A manuscript copy of "For Annie" was sold at the Pierce sale in 
 Philadelphia, May 6, 1903. "Annie" was Mrs. Richmond of Lowell, 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 Poe complained that the Flag of Our Union misprinted the lines, for 
 which reason he sent a corrected copy to the Home Journal. They seem, 
 however, to have been published simultaneously. Poe sent to Mrs. 
 Richmond a portion of his poem "A Dream Within A Dream," headed 
 "For Annie." In his last revision of this poem he also changed the 
 title, "To ." and unquestionably addressed the poem to "Annie.'" 
 
 SONNET — TO MY MOTHER 
 
 Flag of Our Union, July 7, "To My Mother," 1849; Richmond Examiner, 
 October, 1849; Southern Literary Messenger, December, 1849; Leaflets 
 of Memory, Philadelphia, 1850; Griswold, 1850. 
 
 Text, Southern Literary Messenger. 
 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 1. The angels: I feel that. F. O. U.; Gr. 
 
 2. Devoutly singing unto: The angels whispering to. F. 0. U.; Gr. 
 
 3. Amid: among. F. 0. U.; Gr. 
 5. Sweet: dear. Gr. 
 
 7. Filling: And fill; God: Death, F. 0. U.; Gr. 
 9. My: Omit italics. F. O. U.; Gr. 
 
 11. dead: one. F. O. U.; Gr. 
 
 12. And thus are dearer than the mother I Icnew. F. O. U.; Gr, 
 Notes: This poem refers to his mother-in-law, who was also his 
 
 aunt — Mrs. Clemm. The Examiner text follows the Southern Literary 
 Messenger. The Leaflets of Memory has one change in punctuation. The 
 sonnet is introduced in the Southern Literary Messenger as follows: 
 "One of the most touching of the compositions of poor Poe is the Sonnet 
 to his Mother-in-law. It bears the impress of sincere feeling, and seems 
 
274 NOTES 
 
 to have been written in his better moments, when his spirit returning 
 from 'the misty mid-regions of Weir' and the companions of Ghouls, be- 
 trayed that touch of nature which makes the whole world kin.'' 
 
 ELDORADO 
 
 Flag of Our Union, April 21, 1849; Griswold, 1850. 
 
 Text, Flag of Our Union. 
 Note : The Griswold text shows no changes. A reference is made in 
 the poem "Dream-Land" to "Eldorado." 
 
 ANNABEL LEE 
 
 New York Tribune, October 9, 1849; Richmond Examiner, October, 
 1849; Southern Literary Messenger, November, 1849; Sartain's Union 
 Magazine, January, 1850, with sub-title "A Ballad"; Griswold, 1850; 
 "The Poets and Poetry of America," 1855; Poe MS. 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 II. 1. She . . .1: I . . . She. T. Gr. MS. and 1850. No italics in 
 S. U. M. 
 
 S. Of: in. T. and Gr. MS. 
 
 III. 3. By night: chilling. T. Gr. MS. and 1850. S. U. M. 
 
 4. chilling: My beautiful. T. Gr. MS. and 1850. S. U.M. 
 
 5. Kinsman; S. U. M.; Gr. 1850. 
 
 IV. S- Chilling: by night. T. Gr. MS. and 1850. S. U. M. 
 
 6. And: chilling. T. Gr. MS. and 1850. S. U. M. 
 
 VI. 3. See: feel, all others except S. L. M.; S. U. M.; MS.,/«e/.' 
 
 6. My life : omit italics all others. 
 
 7. Her; the. Gr. 1830. 
 
 8. Sounding; side of. S. L. M.; S. U. M.; R. E. 
 Note in Sartain's Union Magazine with the poem: — 
 
 "In the December number of our magazine we announced that we 
 tad another poem of Mr. Poe's in hand, which we would publish in Jan- 
 uary. We supposed it to be his last, as we had received it from him a 
 short time before his decease. The sheet containing our announcement 
 was scarcely dry from the press, before we saw the poem, which we had 
 bought and paid for, going the rounds of the newspaper press, into which 
 it had found its way through some agency that will perhaps be hereafter 
 
NOTES 275 
 
 explained. It appeafed first, we believe, in the New York Tribune. II 
 we are not misinformed, two otiier Magazines are in the same predica- 
 ment as ourselves. As the poem is one highly characteristic of the gifted 
 and lamented author, and more particularly, as our copy of it differs in 
 several places from that which has been already published, we have con- 
 cluded to give it as already announced." 
 
 Notes : Poe's manuscript from which Sarlain's Union Magazine printed 
 the poem is now in the library of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq. of New York 
 city. It is written on two sheets of blue glazed paper ruled and pasted 
 together. On the back is written in Professor Hart's hand "$s paid." 
 "This was the price paid by Sarlain's Union Magazine when it was 
 accepted and published in 18SO Q.S. Hart, Editor)." These comments 
 throw some obscurity upon the previous remarks of the editor of Sarlain's 
 Union Magazine when the poem was published in January, 1830, wherein 
 it is intimated that they bought and paid Poe lumself for the poem. This 
 was an impossibility in 1850 as Poe died in 1849. The statement in 
 Sarlain's Union Magazine has often been used to reflect on Poe's char- 
 acter, and it now seems unwarranted. 
 
 F. W. Thomas, who was conversant with many of Poe's as well as Mrs. 
 Clemm's affairs, states that " Poe was never paid for the poem by 5af- 
 tain's Union Magazine." It seems unlikely that Poe would have parted 
 with the poem for $5. In a letter to Griswold in 1849 (no date) he asks 
 if he cannot sell "Annabel Lee" to Graham's or Godey for Jso, before 
 same appeared in hie book, Sarlain's Union Magazine acknowledged 
 holding the poem nearly four months, and it now seems doubtful if it wft» 
 ever accepted or paid for. 
 
 The original manuscript also shows that the editor of Sarlain's Union 
 Magazine did not use Poe's punctuation, italics, or capital letters. Fur- 
 thermore, that he printed the word "kinsman" which reads plainly 
 "kinsmen.'" The November, 1849, Southern Literary Messenger published 
 "Annabel Lee" with the statement that the manuscript was banded 
 in by Poe the day before he left Richmond. This manuscript also 
 shows that the Messenger failed to follow Poe's punctuation. It has 
 been thought that Griswold used a manuscript of Poe for his text of 1850, 
 but it is now evident that he merely copied from Sarlain's Union Maga- 
 zine, following the error there and printing "kinsman " for "kinsmen" 
 and using "the "sepulchre for "her" sepulchre as Poe always wrote same 
 in all his manuscripts of the poem. This seems strange when the fact Is 
 known that Griswold bad at that time a manuscript of the poem in Foe's 
 
276 NOTES 
 
 own hand, which he did not use until later in his "Poets and Poetry of 
 America," and then did not follow the text accurately. 
 
 Of the three known manuscript copies of "Annabel Lee," that of the 
 Southern Literary Messenger closely follows the text. Poe gave away 
 the Thome MS. before leaving New York, in June, 1849, the Griswold 
 copy was forwarded by mail in 1849 (no date), and he gave the Southern 
 Literary Messenger copy to John R. Thompson the day previous to 
 leaving Richmond, September 27, 1849. 
 
 TJLALUME— A BALLAD 
 
 American Whig Review ("To ." "Ulalume": A Bal- 
 lad), December, 1847; Home Journal, January i, 1848; Literary World 
 ("Ulalume." A Ballad), March 3, 1849; Richmond Examiner, October, 
 J849; Poe MS., 1849; "The Poets and Poetry of America," 1855. 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 
 Variations from the text follow; — 
 
 II. 4. Days : the days. L. W. 
 
 VI. 4. Ah: Oh. All others except MS. 
 S. Ah; Oh. All others except MS. 
 
 VII. 9. Surely : safely. All others except MS. 
 VIII. 5. But: And. A. W. R. 
 
 IX. 9. Ah: Oh. A. W. R.; hath ; has. All others except MS. 
 13. This; la the. A. W. R. 
 X. 7. ffase.-Had. All others except MS. 
 
 Notes : Griswold, 1850, omits ' ' We " in III. 9 and the entire tenth stanza 
 with other alight variations from the text. In his "Poets and Poetry of 
 America," text of 1855 he used the tenth stanza, and follows the Xmertcon 
 Whig Review with the exception of VII. lo, where "Have" is used for 
 "Had" — one of Poe's last corrections. 
 
 Poe wrote to the Editor of the Borne Journal, December 8, 1847, as 
 follows: — 
 
 "I send you an American Review — the number just issued — in which 
 is a ballad by myself, but published anonymously. It is called 'Ulalume' 
 — the page is turned down. I do not care to be known as its author just 
 now; but would take it as a great favor if you would copy it in the B. J., 
 with a word of inquiry as to who wrote it: — provided always that you 
 think the poem worth the room it would occupy in your paper — a 
 matter about which I am by no means sure." 
 
NOTES 277 
 
 The poem appeared January i, 1848, with the following comment: 
 "We do not know how many readers we have who will enjoy, as we do, 
 the following exquisitely piquant and skilful exercise of variety and nice- 
 ness of language. It is a poem which we find in the American Remew, full 
 of beauty and oddity in sentiment and versification, but a curiosity 
 (and a delicious one, we think) in philologic flavor. Who is the author?" 
 
 Poe wrote E. A. Duyckinck of the Literary World February 16, 1849: 
 "Perhaps in the conversation I had with you in your office about 'Ula- 
 lume,' I did not make you comprehend precisely what was the request 
 I made: so to save trouble I send now the enclosed from the Providence 
 Daily Journal. If you will oblige me by copying the slip as it stands, 
 prefacing it by the words ' From the Providence Journal ' it will make 
 everything straight." The Literary World printed the poem March 3, 
 1849, with the following note: — 
 
 "The following fascinating poem, which is from the pen of Edgar A. 
 Poe, has been drifting about the newspapers under anonymous or mis- 
 taken imputation of authorship, — having been attributed to N. P. 
 Willis. We now restore it to its proper owner. It originally appeared 
 without name in the American Review. In peculiarity of versification, 
 and a certain cold moonlight witchery, it has much of the power of the 
 author's 'Raven.'" 
 
 In the review of H. B. Hirst (Griswold, 1850), Poe states: "To my 
 face, and in the presence of my friends, Mr. H. has always made a point 
 of prMang my own poetical efforts; and, for this reason, I should forgive 
 him, perhaps the amiable weakness of abusing them anonymously. In 
 a late number of ' The Philadelphia Courier,' he does me the honor of 
 attributing to my pen a ballad called ' Dlaiume,' which has been going 
 the rounds of the press, sometimes with my name to it; sometimes with 
 Mr. Willis's, and sometimes with no name at all. Mr. Hirst insists upon 
 it that / wrote it, and it is just possible that he knows more about the 
 matter th^i I do myself. Speaking of a particular passage he says: 'We 
 have spoken of the mystical appearance of Astarte as a fine touch of 
 art. This is borrowed, and from the first canto of Hirst's "Endymion" 
 . . . published years since in the Southern Literary Messenger:' — 
 
 'Slowly Endymion bent, the light Elysian 
 Flooding his figure. Kneeling on one knee. 
 He loosed his sandals, lea 
 And lake and woodland glittering on his vision — 
 
278 NOTES 
 
 A fairy landscape, bright and beautiful. 
 With Venus at her full.' " 
 
 Astarte is another name for Venus; and when we remember that Diana 
 is about to descend to Endymion — that the scene which is about to 
 follow is one of love — that Venus is the star of love — and that Hirst, 
 by introducing it as he does, shadows out his story exactly as Mr. Poe 
 introduces his Astarte — the plagiarism of idea becomes evident. Poe 
 quotes the fourth stanza of "Ulalume" and regrets that he finds no 
 resemblance between the two passages in question. He then quotes 
 four lines from "Lenore," which he charges Hirst with using in his "The 
 Penance of Roland," and concludes: " Many a lecture, on literary topics, 
 have I given Mr. H.; and I confess that in general he has adopted my 
 advice so implicitly that his poems, ui)on the whole, are little more than 
 our conversations done into verse." 
 
 Mrs. S. H. Whitman in a letter to the New York Tribune dated Provi- 
 dence, September 29, 1875, in answer toF. G. Fairfield's "A Mad Man of 
 Letters," makes the following reference to "Ulalume ": — 
 
 "The fist of the poem is Venus 'Astarte' — the crescent star of hope 
 and love that, after a night of horror, was seen in the constellation of 
 Leo : — 
 
 'Coming up through the lair of the Lion 
 As the star dials hinted of morn.' 
 
 The forlorn heart might have been seen hailing ft as a harbinger of 
 happiness yet to be, hoping against hope, until, when the planet was 
 seen to be rising over the tomb of a lost love, hojie itself rejected as a cruel 
 mockery, and the dark angel conquered. There might also be discerned 
 in this strange and splendid phantasy something of that ethical quality 
 found by an eloquent interpreter of Poe's genius in the July British 
 Quarterly. Like the 'Epipsychidion ' of Shelley, it is a poem for poets 
 and will not readily give up 'the heart of the mystery.' " 
 
 Mrs. Whitman claimed that the last stanza of the poem was suppressed 
 by Poe at her suggestion. This was probably Griswold's authority for 
 leaving out that stanza in the 1850 volume ; but it is to be noted that 
 he afterwards found out his mistake and replaced same in his later publi- 
 cations. All Poe's publications of the poemi show the conduding stanza, 
 and in the later revision of the poem he made two corrections in that 
 stanza. There is no evidence to indicate a suppression. 
 
 A manuscript copy of the poem, including the last verse written by 
 
NOTES 279 
 
 Poe in the latter part of the year 1849, is in the library of J. Pierpont 
 Morgan, Esq., of New York city. This manuscript was given by the 
 poet to Miss Susan Ingram at Old Point, Virginia, during September, 
 1849, with the following letter: "I have transcribed 'Ulalume' with 
 much pleasure, Dear Miss Ingram — as I am sure I would do anything 
 else at your bidding — but I fear you will find the verses scarcely more 
 intelligible to-day in my manuscript than last night in my recitation. I 
 would endeavor to explain to you what I really meant — or what I 
 fancied I meant by the poem, if it were not that I remembered Dr. 
 Johnson's bitter and rather just remark about the folly of explaining 
 what, if worth explanation, would explain itself. He has a happy 
 witticism, too, about some book which he calls ' as obscure as an explana- 
 tory note.' Leaving 'Ulalume' to its fate, therefore, and in good hands, 
 I am, yours truly." 
 
 In an article by Mrs. Gove-Nichols, published in the Sixpenny Maga- 
 zine, February, 1863, reference is made to a poem sent to Colton, editor 
 of the American Whig Review, by Poe prior to the summer of 1846, as 
 follows: — 
 
 "We had already read the poem in conclave, and Heaven forgive us, 
 we could not make head or tail to it. It might as well have been in any 
 of the lost languages, for any meaning we could extract from its melodi- 
 ous numbers. I remember saying that I believed it was a hoax that Poe 
 was passing off for poetry, to see how far his name would go in imposing 
 upon people. The poem was paid for and published soon after. I pre- 
 sume it is regarded as genuine poetry inthe collected poems of its author.' ' 
 
 Her words would seem to apply to " Ulalume," but the poem did not 
 appear in the Whig Review until the last of 1847. It may be possible that 
 Mrs. Gove-Nichols had ber dates mixed up. 
 
 TAMERLANE 
 
 1827, 1829, 1831, 1845. 
 Text, 1845. 
 Variations of 1820 and 18 31 from the text ; — 
 3. Deem ; think. 1831. 
 26. Insert after: — 
 
 Despair, the fabled vampire bat, 
 Hath long upon my bosom sat, 
 
28o NOTES 
 
 And I would rave, but that he flings 
 A calm from his unearthly wings. 1831. 
 
 30. Fierce: Omit. 1831. 
 40. ffoDe.-Hath. 1831. 
 
 57. Was giant-like — so thou my mind. 1825; 1831. 
 73. This iron he<frl ; that as infinite. 1831. 
 74 My soul : so was the weakness in it. 1831. 
 Insert after; — 
 
 For in those days 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 sulfan-like pines that tower'd around! 
 
 But when the night had thrown her pall 
 
 Upon that spot as upon all. 
 
 And the black wind murmur'd by. 
 
 In a dirge of melody; 
 
 My infant spirit would awake 
 
 To the terror of that lone lake. 
 
 Yet that terror was not fright — 
 But a tremulous delight — 
 A feeling not the jeweU'd mine 
 Could ever bribe me to define. 
 Nor love, Ada! tho' it were thine. 
 How could I from that water bring 
 Solace to my imagining ? 
 My solitary soul — how make 
 An Eden of that dim lake ? 
 
 But then a gentler, calmer spell, 
 Like moonlight on my spirit fell. 
 And 0! I have no words to tell. 1831. 
 
 77. Nor would I : I will not. 1831. 
 
 81. Thus 1:1 well. 1831. 
 
 82. 5<ime ^og« ; Pages. 1831, 
 
NOTES 281 
 
 86. Oh, she was : Was she not . 1831 . 
 
 106. Threw me on her throbbing: lean upon her gentle. 1831. 
 
 110. Her .'hers. 1831. 
 
 112-11S. Omit. 1831. 
 
 119. Its joy — its little lot : of pleasure or. 1831. 
 
 120. That was new pleasure : The good, the bad. 1831. 
 128-138. Omit. 1831. 
 
 151. On her bright : upon her . 1831. 
 
 152. To become : fitted ioi . 1831. 
 164. His : its. 1831. 
 
 166-177. 
 
 Say, holy father, breathes there yet 
 
 A rebel or a Bajazet ? 
 
 How now! why tremble, man of gloom. 
 
 As if my words were the Simoom 1 
 
 Why do the people bow the knee. 
 
 To the young Tamerlane — to mel 1831. 
 
 202. Splendor .-beaMty, 1831. 
 
 207-212. Omit. 
 
 For 213-221 substitute: — 
 
 I reach'd my home — what home ? above 
 My home — my hope — my early love. 
 Lonely, like me, the desert rose, 
 Bow'd down with its own glory grows. 1831. 
 
 235. Unpolluted : unde&led. 1831. 
 343. Insert after: — 
 
 If my peace hath flown away 
 In a night — or in a day -^ 
 In a vision — or in none — 
 Is it, therefore, the less gone ? 
 I was standing 'mid the roar 
 Of a wind-beaten shore, 
 And I held within my hand 
 Some particles of sand — 
 How bright! And yet to creep 
 Thro' my fingers to the deep! 
 
282 NOTES 
 
 My early hopes ? no — they 
 Went gloriously away. 
 Like lightning from the sky — 
 Why in the battle did not I ? 
 The first 1827 version follows; — 
 
 ^^AMERLANE 
 
 I 
 I have sent for thee, holy friar; (') 
 But 't was not with the drunken hope, 
 Which is but agony of desire 
 To shun the fate, with which to cope 
 Is more than crime may dare to dream. 
 That I have call'd thee at this hour: 
 Such, father, is not my theme — 
 Nor am I mad, to deem that power 
 Of earth may shrive me of the sin 
 Unearthly pride hath revell'd in — 
 I would not call thee fool, old man. 
 But hope is not a gift of thine; 
 If I can hope (0 God! I can) 
 It falls from an eternal shrine. 
 
 II 
 
 The gay wall of this gaudy tower 
 Grows dim around me — death is near. 
 I had not thought, until this hour 
 When passing from the earth, that ear 
 Of any, were it not the shade 
 Of one whom in life I made 
 All mystery but a simple name. 
 Might know the secret of a spirit 
 Bow'd down in sorrow, and in shame. — 
 Shame, said'st thou? 
 
 Ay, I did inherit 
 That hated portion, with the fame. 
 
NOTES 283 
 
 The worldly glory, which has shown 
 A demon-light around my throne, 
 Scorching my sear'd heart with a pain 
 Not Hell shall make me fear again. 
 
 I have not always been as now — 
 The fever'd diadem on my brow 
 I daim'd and won usurpingly — 
 Ay — the same heritage hath given 
 Rome to the Caesar — this to me; 
 The heirdom of a kingly mind — 
 And a proud spirit, which hath striven 
 Triumphantly with human kind. 
 
 In mountain air I first drew life; 
 The mists of the Taglay have shed (') 
 Nigfitly their dews on my young head; 
 And my brain drank their venom then, 
 When after day of perilous strife 
 With chamois, I would seize his den 
 And slumber, in my pride of power. 
 The infant monarch of the hour — 
 For, with the mountain dew by night, 
 My soul imbibed unhallow'd feeling; 
 And I would feel its essence stealing 
 In dreams upon me — while the light 
 Flashing from cloud that hover'd o'er, 
 Would seem to my half dosing eye 
 The pageantry of monarchy! 
 And the deep thunder's echoing roar 
 Came hurriedly upon me, teUing 
 Of war, and tumult, where my voice. 
 My mon voice, silly child! was swelling 
 (O how would my wild heart rejoice 
 And leap within me at the ciy) 
 The battle-cry of victory! 
 
284 NOTES 
 
 The rain came down upon my head 
 But barely shelter'd — and the wUid 
 Pass'd quickly o'er me — b\it my mind 
 Was maddening — for 't was man that shed 
 Laurels upon me — and the rush, 
 The torrent of the chilly air 
 Gurgled in my pleased ear the crush 
 Of empires, with the captive's prayer. 
 The hum of suitors, the mix'd tone 
 Of flattery round a sovereign's throne. 
 
 The storm had ceased — and I awoke — 
 Its spirit cradled me to sleep, 
 And as it pass'd me by, there broke 
 Strange light upon me, tho' it were 
 My soul in mystery to steep: 
 For I was not as I had been; 
 The child of Nature, without care. 
 Or thought, save of the passing scene. — 
 
 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 lived one who, then — 
 Then in my boyhood, when their fire 
 Bum'd with a still intenser glow; 
 (For passion must with youth expire) 
 Even then, who deem'd this iron heart 
 In woman's weakness had a part. 
 
 I have no words, alas! to tell 
 The loveliness of loving well! 
 Nor would I dare attempt to trace 
 The breathing beauty of a face. 
 
NOTES 285 
 
 Which even to my impassion'd mind, 
 Leaves not its memory behind. 
 In spring of life have ye ne'er dwelt 
 Some object of delight upon. 
 With steadfast eye, till ye have felt 
 The earth reel — and the vision gone ? 
 And I have held to memory's eye 
 One object — and but one — until 
 Its very form hath pass'd me by. 
 But left its influence with me still. 
 
 VI 
 
 'T is not to thee that I should name ' — 
 Thou canst not — wouldst not dare to think 
 The magic empire of a flame 
 Which even upon this perilous brink 
 Hath fix'd my soul, tho' unforgiven, 
 By what it lost for passion — Heaven. 
 I loved — and O, how tenderly! 
 Yes! she [was] worthy of all love! 
 Such as in infancy was mine, 
 Tho' then its passion could not be: 
 'T was such as angels' minds above 
 Might envy — her young heart the shrine 
 On which my every hope and thought 
 Were incense — then a goodly gift — r 
 For they were childish, without sin. 
 Pure as her young example taught; 
 Why did I leave it and adrift. 
 Trust to the fickle star within ? 
 
 VH 
 
 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 smiled 
 And she would mark the opening skies, 
 I saw no Heaven but in her eyes — 
 
286 NOTES 
 
 Even childhood knows the human heart; 
 For when, in sunshine and in smiles. 
 From all our little cares apart', 
 Laughing at her half silly wiles, 
 I'd throw me on her throbbing breast. 
 And pour my spirit out in tears, 
 She'd look up in my wilder'd eye — 
 There was no need to speak the rest ^ 
 No need to quiet her kind fears — 
 She did not ask the reason why. 
 
 The hallow'd memory of those years 
 Comes o'er me in these lonely hours, 
 And, with sweet loveliness, appears 
 As perfume of strange summer flowers; 
 Of flowers which we have known before 
 In infancy, which seen, recall 
 To mind — not flowers alone — but more, 
 Our earthly life, and love — and all. 
 
 VIII 
 
 Yes! she was worthy of all love I 
 Even such as from the accursed time 
 My spirit with the tempest strove. 
 When on the mountain peak alone, 
 Ambition lent it a new tone, 
 And bade it first to dream of crime. 
 My frenzy to her bosom taught: 
 We still were young: no purer thought 
 Dwelt in a seraph's breast than thine ; (') 
 For passionate love is still divine: 
 / loved her as an angel might 
 With ray of the all living light 
 Which blazes upon Edis' shrine. (') 
 It is not surely sin to name, 
 With such as mine — that mystic flame, 
 I had no being but in thee! 
 The world with all its train of bright 
 And happy beauty (for to me 
 
NOTES 287 
 
 All was an undefined delight), 
 The world — Its joy — its share of pain 
 Which I felt not — its bodied forms . 
 Of varied being, which contain 
 The bodiless spirits of the storms. 
 The sunshine, and the calm — the ideal 
 And fleeting vanities of dreams. 
 Fearfully beautiful! the real 
 Nothings of mid-day waking life — 
 Of an enchanted life, which seems. 
 Now as I look back, the strife 
 Of some ill demon, with a power 
 Which left me in an evil hour. 
 All that I felt, or saw, or thought. 
 Crowding, confused became 
 (With thine unearthly beauty fraught) 
 Thou — and the nothing of a name. 
 
 IX 
 
 The passionate spirit which hath known, 
 And deeply felt the silent tone 
 Of its own self supremacy, — 
 (I speak thus openly to thee, 
 'T were folly now to veil a thought 
 With which this aching breast is fraught) 
 The soul which feels its innate right — 
 The mystic empire and high power 
 Given by the energetic might 
 Of Genius, at its natal hour; 
 Which knows (believe me at this time. 
 When falsehood were a tenfold crime. 
 There is a power in the high spirit 
 To know the fate it will inherit) 
 The soul, which knows such power, will still 
 Find Pride the ruler of his will. 
 
 Yes! I was proud — and ye who know 
 The magic of that meaning word. 
 
288 NOTES 
 
 So oft perverted, will bestow 
 
 Your scorn, perhaps, when ye have heard 
 
 That the proud spirit had been broken, 
 
 The proud heart burst in agony 
 
 At one upbraiding word or token 
 
 Of her that heart's idolatry — 
 
 I was ambitious — • have ye known 
 
 Its fiery passion ? — ye have not — 
 
 A cottagSr, I mark'd a throne 
 
 Of half the world, as all my own, 
 
 And murmur'd at such lowly lot! 
 
 But it had pass'd me as a dream 
 
 Which, of light step, flies with the dew, 
 
 That kindling thought — did not the beam 
 
 Of Beauty, which did guide it through 
 
 The livelong summer day, oppress 
 
 My mind with double loveliness — 
 
 X 
 
 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, whence amid bowers 
 Her own fair hand had rear'd around, 
 Gush'd shoutingly a thousand rills. 
 Which as it were, in fairy bound 
 Embraced two hamlets — those our own — 
 Peacefully happy — yet alone — 
 
 I spoke to her of power and pride — 
 But mystically, in such guise. 
 That she might deem it nought beside 
 The moment's fonverse; 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 
 
NOTES 289 
 
 Too well, that I should let it be 
 A light in the dark wild, alone. 
 
 XI 
 
 There — in that hour — a thought came o'er 
 My mind, it had not known before — 
 To leave her while we both were young, — 
 To follow my high fate among 
 The strife of nations, and redeem 
 The idle words, which, as a dream 
 Now sounded to her heedless ear — 
 I held no doubt — I knew no fear 
 Of peril in my wild career; 
 To gain an empire, and throw down 
 As nuptial dowry ■'— a queen's crown. 
 The only feeling which possest, 
 With her own image, my fond breast — 
 Who, that had known the secret thought 
 Of a young peasant's bosom then. 
 Had deem'd him, in compassion, aught 
 But one, whom fantasy had led 
 Astray from reason — Among men 
 Ambition is chain'd down — nor fed 
 (As in the desert, where the grand. 
 The wild, the beautiful, conspire 
 With their own breath to fan its fire) 
 With thoughts such feeling can command; 
 Uncheck'd by sarcasm, and scorn 
 Of those, who hardly will conceive 
 That any should become "great," bom (') 
 In their own sphere -^ will not believe 
 That they shall stoop in life to one 
 Whom daily they are wont to see 
 Familiarly — whom Fortune's sun 
 Hath ne'er shone dazzlingly upon. 
 Lowly — and of their own degree — 
 
290 NOTES 
 
 I pictured to my fancy's eye 
 Her silent, deep astonishment, 
 When, a few fleeting years gone by, 
 (For short the time my high hope lent 
 To its most desperate intent,) 
 She might recall in him, whom Fame 
 Had gilded with a conqueror's name 
 (With glory — such as might inspire 
 Perforce, a passing thought of one, 
 Whom she had deem'd in his own fire 
 Wither'd and blasted; who had gone 
 A traitor, violate of the truth 
 So plighted in his early youth,) 
 Her own Alexis, who should plight (°) 
 The love he plighted then — again. 
 And raise his infancy's delight. 
 The bride and queen of Tamerlane. ■^ 
 
 One noon of a bright summer's day 
 I pass'd from out the matted bower 
 Where in a deep, still slumber lay 
 My Ada. In that peaceful hour, 
 A silent gaze was my farewell. 
 I had no other solace — then 
 To awake her, and a falsehood tell 
 Of a feign'd journey, were again 
 To trust the weakness of my heart 
 To her soft thrilling voice: To part 
 Thus, haply, while in sleep she dream'd 
 Of long delight, nor yet had deem'd 
 Awake, that I had held a thought 
 Of parting, were with madness fraught; 
 I knew not woman's heart, alas! 
 Tho' loved, and loving — let it pass. — 
 
NOTES 291 
 
 XIV 
 I went from out the matted bower 
 And hurried madly on my way: 
 And felt, with every flying hour. 
 That bore me from my home, more gay; 
 There is of earth an agony 
 Which, ideal, still may be 
 The worst ill of mortality. 
 'T is bliss, in its own reality, 
 Too real, to his breast who lives 
 Not within himself but gives 
 A portion of his willing soul 
 To God, and to the great whole — 
 To him, whose loving spirit will dwell 
 With Nature, in her wild paths; tell 
 Of her wondrous ways, and telling bless 
 Her overpowering loveliness! 
 A more than agony to him 
 Whose failing sight will grow dim 
 With its own living gaze upon 
 That loveliness around: the sun — 
 The blue sky — the misty light 
 Of the pale cloud therein, whose hue 
 Is grace to its heavenly bed of blue; 
 Dim! tho' looking on all bright! 
 God! when the thoughts that may not [ 
 Will burst upon him, and alas! 
 For the flight on Earth to Fancy given, 
 There are no words — unless of Heaven. 
 
 XV 
 
 Look round thee now on Samarcand,(') 
 Is she not queen of earth ? her pride 
 Above all cities ? in her hand 
 Their destinies ? with all beside 
 Of glory, which the world hath known ? 
 Stands she not proudly and alone ? 
 
292 NOTES 
 
 And who her sovereign ? Timur, he O 
 Whom the astonish'd earth hath seen, 
 With victory, on victory. 
 Redoubling age! and more, I ween. 
 The Zinghis' yet re-echoing fame. (") 
 And now what has he ? what! a name. 
 The sound of revelry by night 
 Comes o'er me, with the mingled voice 
 Of many with a breast as light 
 As if 't were not the dying hour 
 Of one, in whom they did rejoice ^ 
 As in a leader, haply — Power 
 Its venom secretly imparts; 
 Nothing have I with human hearts. 
 
 XVI 
 
 When Fortune mark'd me for her own 
 And my proud hopes had reach'd a throne 
 (It boots me not, good friar, to tell 
 A tale the world but knows too well. 
 How by what hidden deeds of might, 
 I clamber'd to the tottering height,) 
 I still was young; and well I ween 
 My spirit what it e'er had been. 
 My eyes were still on pomp and power. 
 My wilder'd heart was far away 
 In the valleys of the wild Taglay, 
 In mine own Ada's matted bower. 
 I dwelt not long in Samarcand 
 Ere, in a peasant's lowly guise, 
 I sought my long-abandon'd land; 
 By sunset did its mountains rise 
 In dusky grandeur to my eyes: 
 But as I wander'd on the way 
 My heart sunk with the sun's ray. 
 To him, who still would gaiie upon 
 The glory of the summer sun, 
 There comes, when that sun will from him part, 
 A sullen hopelessness of heart. 
 
NOTES 293 
 
 That soul will hate the evening 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 wotdd fly. 
 
 But cannot, from a danger nigh. 
 
 What though the moon — the silvery moon — 
 
 Shine on his path, in her high noon; 
 
 Eer smile is chilly, and her beam 
 
 In that time of dreariness will seem 
 
 As the portrait of one after death; 
 
 A likeness taken when the breath 
 
 Of young life, and the fire o' the eye, 
 
 Had lately been, but had pass'd by. 
 
 'T is thus when the lovely summer sun 
 
 Of our boyhood, his course hath run: 
 
 For all we Uve to know — is known; 
 
 And all we seek to keep — hath flown; 
 
 With the noon-day beauty, which is all. 
 
 Let life, then, as the day-flower, fall — 
 
 The transient, passionate day-flower, ('') 
 
 Withering at the evening hour. 
 
 XVII 
 I reach'd my home — my home no more — 
 For all was flown that made it so — 
 I pass'd from out its mossy door. 
 In vacant idleness of woe. 
 There met me on its threshold stone 
 A mountain hunter, I had known 
 In childhood, but he knew me not. 
 Something he spoke of the old cot: 
 It had seen better days, he said; 
 There rose a fountain once, and there 
 Full many a fair flower raised its head: 
 But she who rear'd them was long dead. 
 And in such follies had no part, 
 What was there left me now ? despair — 
 A kingdom for a broken — heart. 
 
294 NOTES 
 
 Variations in Poe's MS. from above follows : — 
 
 IV. 9. The mixed tone : and the tone. 
 
 13. Dare attempt: now attempt. 
 
 V. 14. Breathing : more than. 
 15. My: this. 
 
 21. And have: so have I. 
 
 VIII. \i. Such as I taught her from the time. 
 7-10. There were no holier thoughts than thine. 
 II. Ber : thee. 
 
 21. Which I felt not : Unheeded then. 
 
 30. Some : an. 
 
 33. Confused: confusedly. 
 
 IX. 4-10. Omit. 
 
 11. Me at this time : for now on me. 
 
 12. Truth flashes thro eternity. 
 15. Knows : feels. 
 
 26. //s;The. 
 
 X. 6. Own fair : magic. 
 8-10. 
 
 Encircling with a glittering bound 
 Of diamond sunshine and sweet spray 
 Two mossy huts of theTaglay. 
 
 XI. 12-13. 
 
 The undying hope which now opprest- 
 A spirit ne'er to be at rest. 
 
 14. Secret: silent. 
 
 17. Led : thrown. 
 
 18. Astray from reason : Her mantle over. 
 
 19. Ambition: Lion Ambition: nor fed. Omit. 
 Insert: — 
 
 And crouches to a keeper's hand. 
 
 20. As in the desert: Not so in deserts. 
 
 21. Beautifies: terrible. 
 
 22. Its: his. 
 
 XV. 6. Proudly : noh\y. 
 8. Earth hath seen: people saw. 
 
NOTES 295 
 
 9-11. 
 
 Striding o'er empires haughtily, 
 A diademed outlaw, 
 More than the Zinghis in his fame. 
 12. What: even. 
 
 16. The dying : their parting. 
 
 17. Of: From. 
 
 20. Nothing have I : And I have naught. 
 
 POE'S NOTES TO THE EDITION OF 1827 
 
 Note i 
 / have sent for thee, holy friar. 
 Of the history o£ Tamerlane little is known; and with that little I have 
 taken the full liberty of a poet. — That he was descended from the family 
 of Zinghis Khan is more than probable — but he is vulgarly supposed to 
 have been the son of a shepherd, and to have raised himself to the 
 throne by his own address. He died in the year 1405, in the time of Pope 
 Innocent VII. 
 How I shall account for giving him "a friar" as a death-bed confessor 
 
 — I cannot exactly determine. He wanted some one to listen to his tale 
 
 — and why not a friar? It does not pass the bounds of possibility — 
 quite sufficient for my purpose — and I have at least good authority 
 on my side for such innovations. 
 
 Note 2 
 The mists of the Taglay have shed, Sfc. 
 The mountains of Belur Taglay are a branch of the Imaus, in the 
 southern part of Independent Tartary. They are celebrated for the 
 singular wildness and beauty of their valleys. 
 
 Note 3 
 
 No purer thought 
 Dwelt in seraph's breast than thine. 
 I must beg the reader's pardon for making Tamerlane, a Tartar of 
 the fourteenth century, speak in the same language as a Boston gentle- 
 man of the nineteenth; but of the Tartar mythology we have little 
 information. 
 
296 NOTES 
 
 Note 4 
 Which blazes upon Edis' shrine. 
 A deity piesiding over virtuous love, upon whose imaginary altar a 
 sacred fiie was continually blazing. 
 
 Note s 
 
 Who hardly will conceive 
 
 That any should become "great," born 
 In their own sphere — 
 
 Although Tamerlane speaks this, it is not the less true. It is a matter 
 of the greatest difficulty to make the generality of mankind believe that 
 one with whom they are upon terms of intimacy shall be called, in the 
 world, a "great man." The reason is evident. There are few great men. 
 Their actions are consequently viewed by the mass of the people through 
 the medium of distance. The prominent parts of their characters are 
 alone noted; and those properties, which are minute and common to 
 every one, not being observed, seem to have no connection with a great 
 character. 
 
 Who ever read the private memorials, correspondence, &c., which 
 have become so common in our time, without wondering that "great 
 men" should act and think "so abominably" ? 
 
 Note 6 
 
 Her own Alexis, who should plight, ifc. 
 
 That Tamerlane acquired his renown under a feigned name is not 
 entirely a fiction. 
 
 Note 7 
 
 Look round thee now on Samarcand. 
 
 I believe it was after the battle of Angora that Tamerlane made Samar- 
 cand bis residence. It became for a time the seat of learning and the arts 
 
 Note 8 
 And who her sovereign? Timur, bfc. 
 He was called Timur Bek as well as Tamerlane. 
 
NOTES 297 
 
 Note 9 
 The Zinghis' yet re-echoing fame. 
 The conquests of Tamerlane far exceeded those of Zinghis Khan. He 
 boasted to have two-thirds of the world at bis command. 
 
 Note 10 
 
 The sound of the coming darkness {known 
 To those whose spirits hearken). 
 
 I have often fancied that I could distinctly hear the sound of the dark- 
 ness, as it steals over the horizon — a foolish fancy, perhaps, but not 
 more unintelligible than to see music — 
 
 "The mind the music breathing from her face." 
 
 Note ii 
 Let life then, as the day-fiower, fall. 
 There is a flower (I have never known its botanic name), vulgarly 
 called the day-flower. It blooms beautifully in the daylight, but withers 
 towards evening, and by night its leaves appear totally shrivelled and 
 dead. I have forgotten, however, to mention in the text, that it lives 
 again in the morning. If it will not flourish in Tartary, I must be for- 
 given for carrying it thither. 
 
 SONNET TO SCIENCE 
 
 1829; Philadelphia Casket, 1830, 1831; Southern Literary Messenger, 
 May, 1836; Graham's Magazine (" The Island of the Fa}?," 1841); 1845; 
 Broadway Journal, II, 4; Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March 4, 1843. 
 Text, 1845. 
 
 Variations from the text: — 
 
 1. True: meet. 1829; P. C; 1831; S. L. M. 
 
 2. Peering: piercing. P. C. 
 
 3. The: they. P. C. 
 
 S. Should: shall. P. C. 
 8. Soared: soar. S. L. M. 
 Insert after 10: — 
 
 Hast thou not spoilt a story in each star ? 
 Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood ? 
 
298 NOTES 
 
 The elfin from the grass ? — the dainty fay 
 The witch, the sprite, the goblin — where are they ? 
 
 Anon. G. M. 
 
 11. A:iox. P. C. 
 
 12. The gentle Naiad from her fountain flood. 1829; S. L. M. Her. 
 the. P. C. 
 
 13. Grass: wood. P. C. 
 
 14. TamariTid tree: shiubhery. 1831; S. L.M.; P. C.5«»»)»«r; sum- 
 mers. P. C. 
 
 AL AARAAF 
 
 1829, Poe MS., 1829; 1831, 184s; I. lines 66-67, 70-79. 82-101, 126- 
 129; II. 20-21, 24-27, 52-39, 68-13S appeared in the Philadelphia Satur- 
 day Museum, March 4, 1843. 
 
 Text, 184s. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 I-IS. Mysterious star! 
 
 Thou wert my dream 
 All a long summer night — 
 Be now my theme! 
 By this clear stream. 
 Of thee will I write; 
 Meantime from afar 
 Bathe me in light! 
 
 Thy world has not the dross of ours. 
 Yet all the beauty — all the flowers 
 That list our love, or deck our bowers 
 In dreamy gardens, where do lie 
 Dreamy maidens all the day, 
 While the silver winds of Circassy 
 On violet couches faint away. 
 Little — oh! little dwells in thee 
 Lilce unto what on earth we see: 
 Beauty's eye is here the bluest 
 In the falsest and untruest — 
 On the sweetest air doth float 
 The most sad and solemn note — 
 
NOTES 299 
 
 If with thee be broken hearts, 
 Joy so peacefully departs, 
 That its echo still doth dwell, 
 Like the murmur in the shell. 
 Thou! thy truest type of grief 
 Is the gently falling leaf — 
 Thou! thy framing is so holy 
 Sorrow is not melancholy. 1831. 
 
 II. OA.-With. 1831. Ah. 1829 MS. 
 
 19. An oasis: a garden-spot. 1829; 1831. 
 
 43. rear. 1831. 
 
 88. Which: Tha.t. S. M. 
 
 95. Red: Omit 1 831. 
 
 127. Merest: verest. S. M. 
 
 128. All: Here. 1829; 1831; S. M. 
 Part II. 33. Peered : veatvtied. 1829. 
 
 S3- Cheeks were: cheeks was. S. M. 
 
 S6. Thai: this. S. M. 
 
 S8. Fairy : brilliant. S. M. 
 
 91. Wings: S. M. 
 
 92. Each . . . thing: All . . . things. S. M. 
 94. Would: will. S. M. 
 
 99. Lead: hang. 1829; 1831. 
 117. A deep dreamy. S. M. 
 
 197. The orb of the Earth: one constant star. 1829; 1831. 
 213. He: it. 1829; 1831. 
 In the Saturday Museum transpose 11. lines 20-59. 
 Notes : In Graham's Magazine, February, 184S, which was revised by 
 Poe, referring to the lines of " Ligeia " in " AI Aaraaf " it is stated : 
 "In a poem called 'Ligeia' he intended to personify the music of nature." 
 In "The Rationale of Verse" Poe refers to other lines in Part II, begin- 
 ning: "Dim was its little disk, and angel eyes," and says: " the passages 
 occur in a boyish poem written by myself when a boy. I am referring 
 to the sudden and rapid advent of a star." 
 
 Poe evidently derived the name " Al Aaraaf" from Al-Araf, signifying 
 the partition between Paradise and Hell, which is mentioned in the 
 chapter copied from the great gulf of separation mentioned in Scripture. 
 They call it Al-Orf, or more frequently Al Araf — a word derived from 
 
300 NOTES; 
 
 the verb Araf a, which signifies to distinguish between things or to part 
 them. See Poe's own "Al Aaraaf " notes. 
 
 That he was not satisfied with the name "AI.AaraaC as taking part 
 in the affairs of the poem is most evident from two changes made by him. 
 The first was made in the copy of the 1829 poems, which, he used for the 
 copy of his 1845 poems. In the second part of the poem where it says: 
 
 "When first Al Aaraaf knew hetcou se to be" he changed " Al Aaraaf" 
 to read Tophet, and when be quoted tjje passage again late in life in 
 "The Rationale of Verse" he changed it a second time to The Phantoms. 
 
 In the 1829 volume there are two changes which doi not appear else- 
 where. In Part II, 38th line; "the" is changed to thyi and in the next 
 line following, "Of beautiful Gomorroh!" reads Too beautiful- Gomorroh. 
 
 ROMANCE 
 
 Philadelphia Saturday Museumj March 4, 1843; 184s; Broadway Xour- 
 ttol, n, 8. — Preface, 1829; Poe MS., i82g; Introduction, 1831. 
 Text, 184s. 
 Variations of 18 2g from the text : — 
 12. Heavens. B. J. 
 
 14. I scarcely have had time for cares. S. M. 
 I have time for no idle cares. 1829 MS. 
 The 1831 version is as follows: — 
 
 INTEODUCTION 
 
 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 
 Succeeding years, too wild for song. 
 Then roll'd.like tropic storms alongj 
 
NOTES 301 
 
 Where, tho' the garish lights that fly, 
 Dying- along the troubled sky 
 Lay bare, thro' vistas thunder-riven. 
 The blackness of the general Heaven, 
 That very blackness yet doth fling 
 Light on the lightning's silver wing. 
 
 For, being an idle boy lang syne. 
 Who read Anacreon, and drank wine, 
 I early found Anacreon rhymes 
 Were almost passionate sometimes'— 
 And by strange alchemy of brain 
 His pleasures always turn'd to pain — 
 His naivete to wild desire — 
 His wit to love — his wine to fire — 
 And so, being young and dipt in folly 
 I fell in love with' melancholy, 
 And used to throw my earthly rest 
 And quiet all away in jest — 
 I could not love except where Death 
 Was mingling his with Beauty's breath 
 Or Hymen, Time, and Destiny 
 Were stalking between her and me. 
 
 O, then the eternal Condor years. 
 So shook the very Heavens on high. 
 With tumult as they thunder'd by; 
 I had no time for idle cares. 
 Thro' gazing on the unquiet sky! 
 Or if anhour with calmer wing 
 Its down did on my spirit fling. 
 That little hour with lyre and rhyme 
 To while away — forbidden thing! 
 My heart half fear'd to be a crime 
 Unless it trenibled *ith the string. 
 But now my soul-hath too much room - 
 Gone are the glory and the gloom — 
 The black hath mellow'd into grey. 
 And all the fires are fading away. 
 
302 NOTES 
 
 My draught of passion hath been deep — 
 I revell'd, and 1 now would sleep — 
 And after-drunkenness of soul 
 Succeeds the glories of the bowl — 
 An idle longing night and day 
 To dream my very life away. 
 
 But dreams — of those who dream as I, 
 Aspiringly, are damned, and die: 
 Yet should I swear I mean alone. 
 By notes so very shrilly blown. 
 To break upon Time's monotone. 
 While yet my vapid joy and grief 
 Are tintless of the yellow leaf — 
 Why not an imp the graybeard hath 
 Will shake his shadow in my path — 
 And even the graybeard will o'erlook 
 Connivingly my dreaming-book. 
 
 Variations from iSig follow : — 
 11-34. Omit. 
 
 35. 0, then the : Of late. 
 
 36. Shook the very Heavens : shake the very air. 
 
 37. Thunder'd: thunder. 
 
 38. I hardly have had time for cares. 
 
 40. Or if . . . wing : And when . . . wings. 
 
 41. Did on . . .fling: upon . . . flings. 
 
 43. Things: thing. 
 
 44. Half-feared : would feel. 
 
 45. Unless it trembled . . . j/«»gi ; Did it not tremble . . . strings. 
 46-66. Omit. 
 
 Notes : The manuscript changes made by Poe in this poem exist in the 
 presentation copy of " AI Aaraaf , Tamerlane and Minor Poems," to his 
 cousin Elizabeth Herring. The date on the title-page of this copy is 1820. 
 The volume was used, by Poe while editing the Broadway Journal 
 and in printing the 1845 edition of his poems. The changes in this 
 copy indicate that the third draft was made into the Broadway Jour- 
 nal. 
 
NOTES 303 
 
 SONG 
 "I SAW THEE ON THY BRIDAL DAY" 
 
 1827, 1829, Poe MS., 1829; 1845; Broadway Journal, II, 11. 
 
 Text, 1845- 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 I. I. Thy: the. 1827. 
 
 II. 2. Of young passions free. 1827. 
 
 3. ilcAJBg; chained. 1827; fetter'd. 1829. 
 
 4. Could: might. 1827. 
 
 III. I. Perhaps: I ween. 1827. 
 
 Notes : The manuscript of this poem in Foe's hand, written about 1829, 
 is in the library of a CMcago collector. It has the additional heading 
 of "In an Album," and on the margin where four lines of the second 
 stanza is omitted is written "4 lines omitted see last page." The last page 
 however is missing. A volume of the Saturday Evening Post for 1826 with 
 a few notations in Poe's hand, and coming from the counting house of 
 Ellis & Allan, Richmond, Virginia, where Poe was employed in 1827, 
 has a poem reading: — 
 
 "I saw her on the bridal day. 
 In blushing beauty blest. 
 Smiles o'er her lips were seen to play 
 Like gilded gleams at dawn of day. 
 The fairest of the guest." 
 
 The changes from 1829 to 1845 are also noted in the 1829 copy of 
 poems with Poe's revision. The word Though appears changed through- 
 out from "Tho'." 
 
 DREAMS 
 
 1827 
 Text, 1827. 
 Note'; The manuscript of this poem, in Poe's hand, written about 
 1829, now in the library of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., shows the follow- 
 ing variations from the text: — 
 
 5. CoW; dull. 
 
 6. Must : shall. 
 
304 NOTES 
 
 7. Still upon the lovely : ever, on the chilly. 
 
 14. Dreams of Imng : dreamy fields of. 
 
 15. Lovfilinesg haveieft my very: left unheedingly my. 
 19. Only. In italics. 
 
 27. After fko' insert J>ut J have been. No italics. 
 
 SPIRITS OF THE DEAD 
 
 Visit of the Dead — 1827; Poe MS. 
 
 Spirits of the Dead — 1829; Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, July, 
 1839. 
 
 Text, Burton's Gentleman's Magazine. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 II. I. that: thy. MS. 
 
 III. 8. Insert after: — 
 
 But 't will leave thee as each star 
 With the dewdrop flies afar. MS. 
 
 IV. 4. Dewdrops : dewdrop. MS.; 1829; B. G. M. 
 The 1827 version runs as follows: — 
 
 VISIT or THE DEAD 
 
 Thy soul shall find itself alone -r- 
 Alone of all on earth — unknown 
 The cause — but none are near to pry 
 Into thy 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 then o'ershadow thee — be still: 
 For the night, tho' dear, shall frown; 
 And the stars shall look not down 
 From their thrones, in the dark heaven. 
 With light like Hoi>e to mortals given. 
 But their red orbs, without beam. 
 To thy withering heart shall seem 
 
NOTES 305 
 
 As a bundng, wii a fevet 
 
 Which would cling to thiee fbrevfc*. 
 
 But 't will leave thee, as each star 
 
 In the morning light afar 
 
 Will fly thee "- and vanish: 
 
 — Bat its thought thou canst not banish. 
 
 The breath o{ God will be stiU; 
 
 And the mist upon the hill 
 
 By that summer breeze unbrokien 
 
 Shall charm thee — as a token. 
 
 And a symbol which shall be 
 
 Secrecy in thee. 
 
 EVENING STAR 
 
 1827 
 Text, 1827. 
 
 TO (A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM) 
 
 Imitation, 1827; To , 1829; Tamerlane, 1831; A Dream within 
 
 a Dream, Flag of Our Union, March 31, 1849; Richmond Examiner 
 
 (To ), October, 1849; GriswoU, 1850. 
 
 Text, Richmond Examiner. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 I. Thy: the all others. 
 4. To: Who all others. 
 The earliest version (1827) is as follows: 
 
 IMITATION 
 
 A dark unfathom'd tide 
 Of interminable pride — 
 A mystery, and a dream. 
 Should my early life seem; 
 I say that dream was fraught 
 With a wild, and waking thought 
 Of beings that have been. 
 Which my spirit bath not seen, 
 
306 NOTES 
 
 Had I let them pass me by, 
 With a dreaming eyel 
 
 Let none of earth inherit 
 
 That vision on my spirit; 
 
 Those thoughts I would control. 
 
 As a spell upon his soul: 
 
 For that bright hope at last 
 
 And that light time have past. 
 
 And my worldly rest hath gone 
 
 With a sigh as it pass'd on: 
 
 I care not tho' it perish 
 
 With a thought I then did cherish. 
 
 The 1829 revision is as follows: — 
 
 TO 
 
 Should my early life seem 
 [As well it might] a dream — 
 Yet I build no faith upon 
 The King Napoleon — 
 I look not up afar 
 For my destiny in a star: 
 
 In parting from you now 
 Thus much I will avow — 
 There are beings, and have been 
 Whom my spirit had not seen 
 Had I let them pass me by 
 With a dreaming eye — 
 If my peace hath fled away 
 In a night — or in a day — 
 In a vision — or in none — 
 Is it therefore the less gone ? 
 
 I am standing 'mid the roar 
 Of a weather-beaten shore, 
 
NOTES 307 
 
 And I hold within my hand 
 Some particles of sand — 
 How few 1 and how they creep 
 Thro' my fingers to the deep I 
 My early hopes ? no — they 
 Went gloriously away, 
 Like lightning from the sky 
 At once — and so will I. 
 
 So young I Ah I no — not now — 
 Thou hast not seen my brow, 
 But they tell thee I am proud — 
 They lie — they lie aloud — 
 My bosom beats with shame 
 At the paltriness of name 
 With which they dare combine 
 A feeling such as mine — 
 Nor Stoic ? I am not: 
 In the terror of my lot 
 I laugh to think how poor 
 That pleasure "to endure !" 
 What ! shade of Zeno 1 — I ! 
 Endure 1 — no — no — defy. 
 
 Notes: The lines 13-27 appear in " Tamerlane," 1831, revised. lu 
 line 18 of "Imitation," the word "sigh" is printed "sight." It is con- 
 jectured that Poe's last revision, " To ," was addressed to " An- 
 nie," Mrs. Richmond. In 1849, Foe also sent to Mrs. Richmond all but 
 the first nine lines as a separate poem signed "Edgar," and with the 
 title "For Annie." A facsimile of the manuscript appeared in the London 
 Bookman for January, 1909. 
 
 Variations in the manuscript are as fottows : — 
 
 10. All. No italics. 
 
 19. O.Oh. 
 
 21. 0: Oh. 
 
 23. We: I. 
 
308 NOTES 
 
 "IN YOUTH HAVE I KNOWN ONE WITH WHOM 
 
 THE EARTH" 
 
 1827 
 
 Text, 1827. 
 Notes: The title "Stanzas" previously used with this poem is the 
 late E. C. Stedman's, and unauthorized. If this was one of the poems 
 written by Poe in 1821-22, he afterwards added the quotation from Byron 
 — "The Island," which was not published until June, 1823. 
 
 A DREAM 
 
 1827, no title; 1829; 1845; Broadway Journal, II. 6. 
 
 Text, 1845. 
 Variations from the text : — 
 Insert as first stanza: — 
 
 A wilder'd being from my birth. 
 
 My spirit spurn'd control, 
 But now, abroad on the wide earth. 
 Where wanderest thou, my soul ? 1827. 
 
 II. I. Ahl And. 1827; 1829. 
 IV. I. Storm and : misty. 1827. 
 a. Trembled from : ^miy shone. 1827. 
 
 "THE HAPPIEST DAY — THE HAPPIEST HOUR" 
 
 1827 
 
 Text, 1827. 
 
 THE LAKE. TO 
 
 1827, 1829, MS. ; 1831 (in "Tamerlane"); 1845; New York, MiS' 
 sionary Memorial, 1846. 
 
 Text, Missionary Memorial. 
 The 1827 version is as follows: — 
 
NOTES 309 
 
 THE LAKE 
 In youth's spring it was my lot 
 To Iiaunt of the wide earth a spot 
 The which I coUld not love the less; 
 So lovely was the loneUness 
 Of a wild lake, with black rock bound, 
 And the tall pines that tower'd around. 
 But when the night had thrown her pall 
 Upon that spot — as upon all. 
 And the wind would pass me by 
 In its stilly melody, 
 My infant spirit would awake 
 To the terror of the lone lake. 
 Yet that terror was not fright — 
 But a tremulous delight, 
 And a feeling undefined, 
 Springing from a darken'd mind. 
 Death was in that poison'd wave 
 And in its gulf a fitting grave 
 For him who thence could solace bring 
 To his dark imagining; 
 Whose wildering thought could even make 
 An Eden of That dim lake. 
 
 Variations from the text ; -^ 
 
 I. In youth's spring; In spring of youth. 1845. 
 
 9. ghastly wind went by: black wind murmured by. 1829. 
 
 Ghastly: mystic. 1845. 
 to. In a dirge-like: In a stilly. MS.; In a dirge of. i8zg. IH a 
 dirge4ike : murmuring in. 1845. 
 
 11. Then — ah then : my boyish. MS. 
 
 12. That: the. All others. 
 
 15-17. A feeling not the jewell'd mine 
 
 Should ever bribe me to define — 
 Nor Love — although the Love be mine. 1829. 
 19. Depth: gulf, all others. 
 Note : A manuscript copy of this poem in Poe's hand. Written about 
 1829, is now in the library of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., of New York 
 dty. 
 
3IO NOTES 
 
 TO 
 
 "THE BOWERS, WHEREAT, IN DREAMS, I SEE" 
 
 1829; 184s; Broadway Journal, H. 11. 
 Text, 184s 
 Variations of i82g from the text : — 
 in. 3. The. Omit. 
 4. Baubles : trifles. 
 
 TO THE RIVER 
 
 1829; Poe's MS. 1829; Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, August, 1839; 
 Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March 4, 1843 ; 1845 ; Broadway Journal, 
 II. 9. 
 
 Text, 184s 
 
 Variations from the text : — 
 
 I. :i. Crystal wandering : \3hytmt\1-VALe. 1829. MS.; B. G. M. 
 
 II. ■^. In parenthesis. MS.; B. G. M. 
 
 4. Her worshipper : Thy pretty self. MS. 
 
 5. His: my. 1829; MS.; B. G. M.; B. J. 
 
 6. Z)ee#/y.- lightly. MS. 
 
 7. Bis: The. 1829; MS.; B. G. M.; B. J. 
 
 8. Of her soul-searching: The scrutiny of her. 1829; MS.; B. G. M. 
 Note : A manuscript copy of this poem in Poe's hand, written about 
 
 1829, is in the library of a Chicago collector, and in addition has the title 
 "In an Album." 
 
 TO 
 
 To ; "I heed not that my earthly lot." Poe MS.; "Alone;" 
 
 MS. To M ; 1829; Griswold, 1850. 
 
 Text, Poe MS. 
 
 The earliest 1829 form of the poem is as follows with MS. changes 
 noted below: — 
 
NOTES 311 
 
 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 — 
 Or that the thrill of a single kiss 
 Hath palsied many years — 
 
 'T is not that the flowers of twenty springs 
 Which have wither'd as they rose 
 Lie dead on my heart-strings 
 With the weight of an age of snows. 
 
 Nor that the grass — 0! may it thrive! 
 On my grave is growing or grown — 
 But that, while I am dead yet alive 
 I cannot be, lady, alone. 
 
 9. It is not: I heed not. 
 10. Are gushing: Be gushing, oh! 
 
 Or that the thrill of a single : That the tremor of one. 
 
 19. Yet : And. 
 
 20. Lady: love. 
 
 Note : The manuscript of this poem in Poe's later-year handwriting is 
 in the Griswold collection signed E. A. P. 
 
312 NOTES 
 
 FAIRY-LAND 
 
 1829, 1831; Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, August, 1839, 184s; 
 Broadway Journal, II. 13. 
 
 Text, 184s 
 Variations of 182Q from the text : — 
 13. kind: sort. 
 20. Over halls : and rich. 
 
 44. Never contented things :- The unbelieving things. 
 The 1831 version is as follows: — 
 
 FAIRY-LAND 
 
 Sit down beside me, Isabel, 
 
 Here, dearest, where the moonbeam fell 
 
 Just now so fairy-like and well. 
 
 Now thou art dress'd for paradise! 
 
 I am star-stricken with thine eyes I 
 
 My soul is lolling on thy sighs! 
 
 Thy hair is lifted by the moon 
 
 Like flowers by the low breath of June! 
 
 Sit down, sit down — how came we here? 
 
 Or is it all but a dream, my dear? 
 
 You know that most enormous flower — 
 
 That rose — that what d' ye call it — that hung 
 
 Up like a dog-star in this bower — 
 
 To-day (the wind blew, and) it swung 
 
 So impudently in my face. 
 
 So like a thing alive you know, 
 
 I tore it from its pride of place 
 
 And shook it into pieces — so 
 
 Be all ingratitude requited. 
 
 The winds ran off with it delighted. 
 
 And, thro' the opening left, as soon 
 
 As she threw oS her cloak, you moon 
 
 Has sent a ray down with a tune. 
 
NOTES 313 
 
 And this ray is a fairy ray — 
 
 Did you not say so, Isabel ? 
 
 How fantastically it fell 
 
 With a spiral twist and a swell, 
 
 And over the wet grass rippled away 
 
 With a tinkling lilte a bell! 
 
 In my own country all the way 
 
 We can discover a moon ray 
 
 WMch thro' some tatter'd curtain pries 
 
 Into the darkness of a room, 
 
 Is by (the very source of gloom) 
 
 The motes, and dust, and flies. 
 
 On which it trembles and lies 
 
 Like joy upon sorrow! 
 
 O, when will come the morrow? 
 
 Isabel, do you not fear 
 
 The night and the wonders here ? 
 
 Dim vales! and shadowy floods! 
 
 And cloudy-looking woods 
 
 Whose forms we can't discover 
 
 For the tears that drip all over! 
 
 Huge moons — seel wax and wane 
 Again — again — again. 
 Every moment of the night — 
 Forever changing places! 
 How they put out the starlight 
 With the breath from their pale faces! 
 
 Lo! one is coming down 
 
 With its centre on the crown 
 
 Of a mountain's eminence I 
 
 Down — still down — and down — ^ 
 
 Now deep shall be — deep! 
 
 The passion of our sleep! 
 
 For that wide circumference 
 
 In easy drapery falls 
 
 Drowsily over halls — 
 
314 NOTES 
 
 Over ruin'd walls — 
 
 Over waterfalls, 
 
 (Silent waterfalls!) 
 
 O'er the strange woods — o'er the sea — 
 
 Alas! over the seal 
 
 Notes: In Burton's Gentleman's Magazine there was the following 
 note to the poem; "The Fairy-land of our correspondent is not orthodox. 
 His description differs from all received accounts of the country — but 
 our readers will pardon the extravagance for the vigor of the delineation.'' 
 
 In the 1829 edition Poe called attention at the thirty-third line to the 
 following footnote: "Plagiarism. See the works of Thomas Moore — 
 passim." 
 
 Poe used the first four lines of this poem, slightly revised, in Dream- 
 Land, lines 9 to 12. See extracts from the Yankee and Boston Literary 
 Gazette, page 176. 
 
 TO HELEN 
 
 1831; Southern Literary Messenger, March, 1836; Graham's Magazine, 
 September, 1841; February, 184S; Philadelphia Saturday Museum, 
 March 4, 1843; 1845. 
 
 Text, 1845. 
 Variations from the text; — 
 
 II. 4. Glory that was: beauty of fair. 1831; S. L. M. 
 5. That was: of old. 1831; S. L. M. 
 
 III. I. Yonhrilliant: ihaXXittXt. 1831; S.L.M.; that shadowy. G.M. 
 
 3. Agale lamp: folded scroll. 1831; S. L. M.; G. M. 
 
 4. Ahl: A. 1831. 
 
 FROM AN ALBUM (ALONE) 
 Text, Scribner's Magazine. 
 
 This poem was published in Scribner's Magazine, September, 1875, 
 which text is followed. 
 
 The poem is signed E. A. Poe, and introduced by a note as follows: 
 "The following verses, which are given in facsimile, were written by 
 Edgar A. Poe shortly before he left West Point in 1829." 
 
 Mr. Eugene L. Didier writes that he discovered and cut the poem from 
 the album of a Mrs. Balderstone of Baltimore, Maryland. He further 
 
NOTES 315 
 
 states that the headline "Alone," and the date "Baltimore, March 17, 
 1829," were not in Foe's hand; also that the account in Scribner's, that 
 the poem was written shortly before Foe left West Foint, is an error. 
 
 SPIRITUAL SONG 
 Text, Poe MS. 
 
 This fragment of a poem, but a most striking fragment, which is 
 written entirely in Poe's well-known later-day hand with all the char- 
 acteristics of punctuation and heading, was left by him in his desk at 
 the Southern Literary Messenger office, Richmond, Virginia. Both the 
 desk and the manuscript are now in my possession. The poem is of 
 special interest, because of the dearth of Poe's new poetry while editing 
 the Messenger. It also tends to show how some poetic lines impressed 
 Poe's mind, and with what consummate skill he could improve upon 
 other ideas with his own words. 
 
 The poem is written on the reverse side of the following manuscript 
 poem: — 
 
 "SACRED SONG 
 
 0, Strike the Harp 
 
 "0\ strike the harp, while yet there lies 
 In Music's breath the power to please; 
 And if the tears should fill mine eyes. 
 They can but give my bosom ease. 
 But hush the notes of Love and Mirth 
 Too welcome to my heart before; 
 For now those airs that breathe of earth 
 Can charm my pensive soul no more. 
 
 "Yes, I have loved the world too well 
 And roved ia Pleasure's train too long; 
 And I have felt her sweetest spell 
 In Beauty's smile, and Passion's song. 
 But now my soul would break her chains, 
 While yet, perhaps the grace is given; 
 Then strike the Harp to Zion's strains 
 And she shall soar at once to heaven." 
 
3l6 NOTES 
 
 This is unsigned, and backed "Anonymous composition for the Mes- 
 senger." It is addressed to "Mr. Thomas W. White, Publisher of the 
 Southern Literary Messenger, Richmond, Va." and has the postmark 
 "Steam," showing that it came from Norfollc, Virginia, by steamer. The 
 poetry evidently made some impression on Foe's mind, and while he 
 possibly intended to re-write it in his own way and made a good start, 
 yet for some reason he changed his mind, and instead of completing it, 
 hunted up and found the author. On page SS4 of the second volume of 
 the Messenger for August, 1836, which Poe edited, may be seen the poem 
 printed as written in the manuscript, but headed "by W. Maxwell" 
 and so indexed. The handwriting of the "Sacred Song" is that of Wil- 
 liam Maxwell, well known as the first Secretary of the Virginia Histori- 
 cal Society; and a poet then residing at Norfolk. He published a volume 
 of poems in Philadelphia which were well received at the time. He 
 afterwards contributed other poetry to the Messenger while Poe was 
 the editor. It is also a matter of conjecture, that instead of completing 
 the "Spiritual Song," Poe decided to use "Israfel," as that poem also 
 appeared in the Messenger for August, 1836. 
 
 In this connection it might be noted that Poe evidently wrote his 
 well-known poem of "The Conqueror Worm " after reading Wallace 
 Cone's "Proud Ladye," which he reviewed for Burton's Gentleman's 
 Magazine, June, 1840, in which was the line — 
 
 "And let Um meet the Conqueror worm.'' 
 The idea in the verses " Spiritual Song" is also met with in his poem 
 " The Haunted Palace," fourth verse, fifth linei — 
 
 "A troop of echoes, whose sweet duty 
 Was to sing 
 In voices of surpassing beauty 
 
 The wit and wisdom of their king." 
 
 ELIZABETH 
 Text, Poe MS. 
 This poem has never appeared in Poe's own, nor in the later edited 
 editions of his poetry. It was taken from his cousin Elizabeth Herring's 
 album, and is written on stained and slightly charred paper, and signed 
 "Edgar." The handwriting is probably that of between 1831 and I834 
 and approximates later years. It is an acrostic, spelling "Elizabeth 
 
NOTES 317 
 
 Rebecca." The manuscript was included in the Pierce auction sale at 
 Philadelphia, May 6, 1903. It is now in the collection of an American 
 collector. The text' is from a facsimile of the original manuscript. 
 Miss Herring lived in Baltimore, where Poe visited her. 
 
 FROM AN ALBUM 
 Text, Poe MS. 
 This poem, like the preceding one, was taken from the album of 
 Elizabeth Herring, and is also an acrostic, spelling "Elizabeth." There 
 is no title to same, and it is signed " E. A. P." It has never appeared 
 in any edition of Poe's poems. The manuscript was also sold at the 
 Pierce auction sale at Philadelphia, May 6, 1903, and is now in the 
 library of an American collector. It too is written on stained and slightly 
 charred paper. Miss Herring stated that Poe wrote her love poetry in 
 the early days. The text is from a facsimile of the original manu- 
 script. 
 
 TO SARAH 
 
 Text, Southern Literary Messenger, 
 
 These lines appeared in the Southern Literary Messenger ioT Angu^t, 
 183s, and are signed "Sylvio." In a memorandum left by Poe in the 
 "Duane" copy of the Messenger, found by me in Boston, Massachusetts, 
 some years ago, this poem and an unpublished story were both acknow- 
 ledged by Poe. 
 
 The lines were evidently intended for Sarah Elmira Royster, his early 
 sweetheart. They might be read in connection with the early 1829. lines 
 commencing "I care not that my earthly lot — " 
 
 THE GREAT MAN 
 
 Text, Poe MS. 
 
 This poem, entirely in the hand of Poe, is written on paper stamped 
 
 "Owen & Hurlbut, So. Lee Mass." The oldest employee of the firm 
 
 wrote that the paper was made and used in the 20's or 30's. The 
 
31 8 NOTES 
 
 manuscript was found in Poe's desk used by him at the Southern Literary 
 Metsenger office, Richmond, Virginia. The word " winds" in line four- 
 teen was changed to "breezes " in the manuscript by Poe. 
 In note S to "Tameriane" Poe wrote: — 
 
 " Who hardly will conceive 
 
 That any should become 'great,' bom 
 In their own sphere — 
 
 " Although Tamerlane speaks this, it is not the less true. It is a matter 
 of the greatest difficulty to make the generality of mankind believe that 
 one with whom they are upon terms of intimacy shall be called, in the 
 world, a 'great man.' The reason is evident. There are few great men. 
 Their actions are consequently viewed by the mass of the people through 
 the medium of distance. The prominent parts of their characters are 
 alone noted; and those properties, which are minute and common to 
 every one, not being observed, seem to have no connection with a great 
 character. Who ever read the private memorials, correspondence, &c., 
 which have become so common in our time, without wondering that 
 'great men' should act and think ' so abominably ' ? " 
 
 It is evident that Poe afterwards changed his early views on the sub- 
 ject, or it is a case, as he states in his poem of "Elizabeth,'' of "innate 
 love of contradiction," which characterized some of his writings. During 
 the later period of his life Poe was known to have written a poem called 
 "The Great, or The Beautiful Physician." Mrs. William Wiley had 
 it from her mother, and is quite confident that the "Physician" manu- 
 script was long in her family, but of late years had gone astray. J. H. 
 Ingram had a note in the January, 1909, New York Bookman, in which 
 he gave the particulars of a lost poem by Poe, "The Beautiful Phy- 
 sician, " as told to him by Mrs. Shew. 
 
 With Foe's known habit of using the early text of his poems in later 
 life, it is not improbable that this early poem was revised and made do 
 duty again as "The Great Physician." 
 
 GRATITUDE. TO 
 
 Text, The Symposia. 
 This poem is signed E. A. P., and was published in "The Symposia," 
 volume i, no. i, Svo, pp. 4. Providence, Rhode Island, January 27, 1848. 
 It was sold at auction in Boston in the spring of 1896. The poem is 
 
NOTES 319 
 
 supposed to have been addressed to Mrs. S. H. Whitman, and was for 
 the benefit of some church or fair in that dty. 
 
 AN ENIGMA 
 Text, Burton's Gentleman's Magazine. 
 This appeared in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine for May, 1840, and 
 was preceded by the following: — 
 
 " Palindromes 
 " A word, a verse, or sentence, that is the same when read backwards 
 or forwards — such as Madam-eye, and a few others are palindromes; 
 so that like the bourgeoise gentUhomme, who talked prose all his life with- 
 out knowing it, we repeat extemporary palindromes daily, in utter 
 ignorance of our talent. This is a redeeming quality, by the bye, to 
 conceal any quality we have, when we are so proud of displaying those 
 we have not. Indeed, our talents may be often divided in the same way 
 as some hand-writing I have heard of; first, such as nobody can find out; 
 secondly, what none but ourselves can discover; and thirdly, what our 
 friends can also discern. We subjoin an English palindrome by Taylor, 
 the Water-poet: — 
 
 ' Lewd did I live, and evil I did dwell.' 
 And an enigma where all the words required are palindromes; the answers 
 will be easily discovered." 
 
 IMPROMPTU 
 
 TO KATE CAEOL 
 
 Text, Broadway Journal. 
 
 This is printed in the Editorial Miscellany of the Broadway Journal 
 of April 26, 1845. In Poe's notices to Corresjrandents, March 29, in the 
 Journal appears "A thousand thanks to Kate Carol." The issue of 
 April s contains a poem "The Rivulet's Dream," signed Kate Carol, 
 preceded by the following Poe note: "We might guess who is the fair 
 author of the following lines, which have been sent us in a MS. evidently 
 disguised, — but we are not satisfied with guessing, and would give the 
 world to know." 
 
 Mrs. Frances Sargent Osgood has some verses "Love's Reply," the 
 following week, reading as a response. Strong external evidence indicates 
 that these lines of Poe's were intended for Mrs. Osgood. 
 
320 NOTES 
 
 STANZAS 
 Text, Graham's Magazine, December, 1845. 
 
 In Mrs. Frances Sargent Osgood's own copy of Graham's MagazitK for 
 December, 1845, she marked these Stanzas to herself, and added Poe's 
 name to the signed initial "P." 
 
 The romance between Mrs. Osgood and Poe had then been going on 
 steadily for some months. There were also other previous references to 
 each other in Graham's Magazine and the Broadway Journal. About the 
 time this poem was written there liad arisen some misunderstanding, or 
 Mrs. Osgood's family had interceded in the matter. These lines followed 
 Mrs. Osgood's verses addressed to Poe called "Israfel " in the November 
 Broadway Journal and may have been intended as Poe's answer. 
 
 THE DIVINE RIGHT OF KINGS 
 Text, Graham's Magazine, August, 1845^ 
 
 In ih old leather-boUhd copy of Graham's Magazine for the years 
 1845-46, once owned by Mrs. Frances Sargent Osgood, she marked this 
 poem signed " P, " as by Poe. The markings of her own writings in the 
 same volume show that the lines were an impromptu reply of Poe's to 
 some words of hers in a Story published in the August, 184S, number of 
 Graham's Magazine, called "Ida Grey." 
 
 The text and additional markings of Mrs. Osgood to this tale make it 
 read Uke an ideahzed account of her first meeting with Poe as written in 
 a letter to R. W. Griswold. Her hero, like Poe, " has grey eyes of singular 
 earnestness; manners coldly courteous; with depth to the tone of his 
 voice. His lightning intellect was irresistible." And like Poe he had a 
 wife. In one passage she wrote: "He bids me tell him that I love him, as 
 proudly as if he had a right, an unquestionable, an undoubted, a divine 
 right to demand my love. Ah! With what grand and simple eloquence 
 he writes! " 
 
 From this it might be taken that Poe's letters to Mrs. Osgood were 
 equally as interesting and eloquent as those he wrote to Mrs. Whitman 
 and to "Annie." 
 
 In some way R. W. Griswold had obtained possession of this volume 
 of Mrs. Osgood's and no doubt the matters made him the more anxious 
 to secure the letters of Mrs. Osgood- written to Poe. Mrs. Clemm wrote 
 Mr. Ingram, Poe's English biographer, that Griswold had made her a 
 
NOTES 321 
 
 liberal offer of money for the letters of Mrs. Osgood, but fearing that 
 poverty might force her to give them up, as well as others her "Eddie " 
 had entrusted to her care, she finally destroyed them. 
 
 This story of "Ida Grey," with its close references to Poe's romance 
 with Mrs. Osgood, must have been talked about by Poe's contemporaries 
 at the time. While the Mrs. Whitman romance was going on later, as 
 Poe's published letters to Mrs. Whitman show, his "pestilential Uterary 
 women friends" kept busy sending Mrs. Whitman stories detrimental to 
 Poe's character, while she in turn almost swamped Poe with interroga- 
 tories. Among Mrs. Whitman's inquiries to Poe was sometliing about 
 this story of "Ida Grey." It may be recalled that Poe is alleged to have 
 first written to Mrs. Whitman imder the assumed name of "Edward S. 
 T. Grey." In reply to Mrs. Whitman's inquiry, Poe merely stated, 
 "Mrs. O.'s 'Ida Grey' is in Graham's for August — '45." 
 
 THE VITAL STREAM 
 Text, Poe MS. 
 
 A facsimile of this poem entirely in Poe's handwriting is preserved, 
 but the original manuscript seems to be lost. The poem was discovered 
 among the Ellis & Allan papers in the Library of Congress at Washing- 
 ton among a number of other Poe documents. It was written by Poe 
 just after his return from college in 1827, and at a time when his love 
 disappointments with Miss Royster were most keenly felt. This is Poe's 
 earliest known manuscript verse. 
 
 "DEEP IN EARTH MY LOVE IS LYING" 
 Text, Poe MS. 
 
 This couplet in faint pencil in Poe's autograph was discovered in the 
 New York Public Library in October, 1914. It is written on the back of 
 an original holograph manuscript of Poe's poem "Eulalie." It was laid in 
 a leatherette-bound copy book used as an autograph album about the 
 period of 184s to 1850. It is written on light bluish tinted writing paper 
 common to the period in which it was produced, and like Poe used during 
 the latter part of his life. There is pasted on the lower right-hand comer 
 of the poem "Eulalie," on a strip of white paper, "Respt. Yr. Ob. St. 
 Edgar A. Poe"; evidently taken from one of Poe's letters. It is a con- 
 jecture that the lines were written in the year 1845, although they may 
 
322 NOTES 
 
 date after the death of Foe's wife in 1847. The couplet is printed in the 
 New York Public Library Bulletin for December, 1914, Vol. XVIII. 
 No. 12. 
 
 LINES TO JOE LOCKE 
 Text, Philadelphia Saturday Museum, March 4, 1843. 
 
 The verses appear in a sketch of Poe's life published in the Philadelphia 
 Saturday Museum, March 4, 1843, with many other well-known and fully 
 authenticated poems by Poe. 
 
 Joe Locke was an inspector of tactics, and an ex officio officer of the 
 barracks, at the West Point Academy while Poe was there in 1830-31. 
 The principal duty of Inspector Locke was to report any violations of 
 instructions. It is said by Poe's contemporaries that No. 28, South 
 Barracks, where Poe sojourned with two other cadets, gave Locke plenty 
 to report. 
 
 Poe was hopeful that this lampoon would earn his dismissal, but it was 
 overlooked. The lines eluded the observation of Poe's^arlier editors of 
 his poems, but appeared among the "Notes" in the revised Life of Poe 
 by Professor G. E. Woodberry. A cadet who roomed with Poe at West 
 Point has also published one verse erroneously of the poem from mem- 
 ory in Harper's New Monthly Magazine for November, 1867. This was 
 copied into the Virginia Poe, Vol. I. 
 
NOTES MAINLY ON CHANGES 
 
 AND ADDITIONS IN THE VARIORUM 
 TEXT OF THE POEMS 
 
 Sources of the text for E. A. Poe's poems, page 183. After Griswold's 
 1850 edition of Poe's poems should follow Griswold's "Gift Leaves 
 of American Poetry." 1849. 
 
 The Raven, page 224. The "Raven " first appeared in the Evening 
 Mirror of January 29, 1845. This form of the poem was carried over into 
 the Weekly Mirror of February 8, 1845, as it is shown by the error in 
 both issues, in the tenth stanza of the poem. In the fifth line the word 
 "he" is repeated. 
 
 To One in Paradise, page 252. A holograph manuscript of Poe's, and 
 signed "Edgar Allan Poe," of this poem has been discovered within the 
 past year. It has the heading "To One Departed," which was used once 
 
 before by Poe to his poem "To F ," published in Graham's Magazine 
 
 for March, 1842. There are only three stanzas, the third stanza as left 
 by Poe in his 1845 revision being cut out. It closely follows the earlier 
 versions of the poem and was probably written prior to 184s. There are 
 a few punctuation changes, and in the last Une "eternal streams" is 
 changed to "Elysian streams." The history of the manuscript is not 
 fully traced. 
 
 Eulalie — A Song, page 254. A manuscript of this poem in the auto- 
 graph of Poe was discovered in the New York PubUc Library in October, 
 1914. It was laid loose in an autograph album, a part of the collection of 
 R. L. Stuart presented to the library in 1892. It is written on a light 
 bluish tinted paper similar to writing paper used by Poe. On the lower 
 right-hand corner of the poem is pasted "Respt. Yr. Ob. St. Edgar A. 
 Poe"; the salutation and signature of Poe, evidently extracted from 
 a Poe letter. There is written on the back of the manuscript in faint 
 pencil an original couplet by Poe. The poem and lines it is conjectured 
 were written in 1845, although they may date later, or after the death of 
 his wife in 1847. A fac-simile of the poem appears in the New York 
 Public Library Btdlelin for December, 1914, Vol. XVIII, No. 12. 
 
 To F s S. d, page 254. The original manuscript to these 
 
324 NOTES 
 
 verses as first written by Poe have been discovered ance the issue of the 
 first edition of this volume. When "Miss Herring was married she ex- 
 changed albums with a girl friend. Both albums had in them poetry 
 written by Poe. The album of Miss Herring with Poe's verse has been 
 found, but that of her friend, with other Poe matters Miss Herring was 
 known to hold, has so far eluded -vigilant search. The lines are entirely 
 in Poe's autograph and were written in the album of his cousin Elizabeth 
 Herring, at Baltimore some time between the years 1832-34. They are 
 signed "E A P." and read as follows: — 
 
 TO ELIZABETH 
 
 Would'st thou be loved? then let thy heart 
 From its present pathway part not — 
 Be everything which now thou art 
 And nothing which thou art not: 
 
 So with the world thy gentle way. 
 And unassuming beauty 
 Shall be a constant theme of praise. 
 And love — a duty. 
 
 The Haunted Palace, page 2S7- This poem was printed by R. W. Gris- 
 wold in his " Gift Leaves of American Poetry." New York, 1849. The 
 last revised manuscript made by Poe of this poem was sent to Griswold 
 by Poe prior to his death, but it arrived too late, or for some unknown 
 reason Griswold printed and followed the earlier versions of the poem. 
 In the Aristidean for October, 1845, is a review of Poe's Tales. The edi- 
 tor, T. D. English, was ill about this time, and it is stated that Poe with 
 a few other friends made up several issues of the magazine. One of the 
 numbers is in the library of a book collector marked in pencil with the 
 names of the contributors of the articles. This handwriting closely ap- 
 proximates Poe's. If Poe did not write the review in the October ^ristf- 
 dean, he must surely have inspired many facts therein stated. In the 
 mention of "The Haunted Palace," it is said, "This was originally sent 
 to O'Sullivan, of the Democratic Renew, and by him rejected, because 
 he found it impossible to comprehend it." 
 
 Scenes from "Politian," page 258. The following fragment from 
 the first scene of Act n. of "Politian," was with the original manu- 
 script. 
 
NOTES 325 
 
 Duke. Why do you laugh? 
 
 CastigUone. Indeed 
 I hardly know myself. Stayl Was it not 
 On yesterday we were speaking of the Earl? 
 Of the Earl Politian? Yes! it was yesterday. 
 Alessandra, you and I, you must rememberl 
 We were walking in the garden. 
 
 Duke. Perfectly. 
 I do remember it ^- what of it — what then? 
 
 Cas. O nothing — nothing at all. 
 
 Duke. Nothing at all! 
 It is most singular that you should laugh 
 At nothing at all! 
 
 Cas. Most singular — singular! 
 
 Duke. Look you, CastigUone, be so kind 
 As to tell me, sir, at once what 't is you mean. 
 What are you talking of? 
 
 Cas. Was it not so? 
 We differed in opinion touching him. 
 
 Duke. Him! — Whom? 
 
 Car. Why, sir, the Earl Politian. 
 
 Duke. The Earl of Leicester! Yes! -^ is it he you meaji? 
 We differed, indeed. If I now recollect 
 The words you used were that the Earl you knew 
 Was neither learned nor mirthful. 
 
 Cas. Ha! Ha! — now did I? 
 
 Duke. That did you, sir, and well I knew at the time 
 You were wrong, it being not the character 
 Of the Earl — whom all the world allows to be 
 A most hilarious man. Be not, my son, 
 Too positive again. 
 
 Cas. 'T is singular! 
 Most singular! I could not think it possible 
 So little time could so alter one! 
 To say the truth about an hour ago, 
 As I was walking with the Count San Ozzo, 
 All arm in arm, we met this very man 
 The Earl — he, with his friend Baldazzar, 
 Having just arrived in Rome. Ha! Ha! he is altered! 
 Such an account he gave me of his journey! 
 
326 NOTES 
 
 'T would have made you die with laughter — such tales he told 
 
 Of his caprices and his merry freaks 
 
 Along the road — such oddity — such humor — 
 
 Such wit — such whim — such flashes of wild merriment 
 
 Set off too in such full relief by the grave 
 
 Demeanour of his friend — who, to speak the truth, 
 
 Was gravity itself — 
 
 Duke. Did I not tell you? 
 
 Cos. You did — and yet 't is strangel but true as strange. 
 How much I was mistaken! I always thought 
 The Earl a gloomy man. 
 
 Duke. So, so, you see! 
 Be not too positive. Whom have we here? 
 It catmot be the Earl? 
 
 Cos. The Eari! Oh no! 
 'T is not the Earl — but yet it is — and leaning 
 Upon bis friend Baldazzar. Ah! welcome, sir! 
 
 ( Enter Polilian and Baldazzar.) 
 My lord, a second welcome let me give you 
 To Rome — his Grace the Duke of Broglio. 
 Father! this is the Earl PoUtian, Earl 
 
 Of Leicester in Great Britain. {PolUian hows haughtily.) That, his friend 
 Baldazzar, Duke of Surrey. The Earl has letters. 
 So please you, for Your Grace. 
 
 Duke. Ha! ha! Most welcome 
 To Rome and to our palace. Earl Politiani 
 And you, most noble Duke! I am glad to see you! 
 I knew your father well, my Lord PoUtian. 
 Castiglipne! call your cousin hither. 
 And let me make the noble Earl acquainted 
 With your betrothed. You come, sir, at a time 
 Most seasonable. The wedding — 
 
 PoUtian. Touching those letters, sir. 
 Your son made mention of — your son, is he not? — 
 Touching those letters, sir, I wot not of them. 
 If such there be, my friend Baldazzar here — 
 Baldazzar! ah! — my friend Baldazzar here 
 Will hand them to Your Grace. I would retire. 
 
 Duke. Retire! So soon? 
 
 Cos. What ho! Benito! Rupert! 
 
NOTES 327 
 
 His lordship's chambers — show his lordship to them! 
 His lordship is unwell. 
 
 {Enkr Benito.) 
 Ben. This way, my lord! {Exit, followed by PoUlian.) 
 
 Duke. Retire! Unwell! 
 Bal. So please you, sir, I fear me 
 'T is as you say — his lordship is unwell. 
 The damp air of the evening — the fatigue 
 Of a long journey — the— indeed I had better 
 Follow his lordship. He must be unwell. 
 I will return anon. 
 
 Duke. Return anon! 
 Now this is strange! Castiglione! 
 This way, my son, I wish to speak with thee. 
 You surely were mistaken in what you said 
 Of the Earl, mirthful, indeed! which of us said 
 
 Politian was a melancholy man? (Exeunt.) 
 
 In the tale called "William Wilson" Poe mentions the "palazzo of 
 the Neapolitan Duke Di Briglio." In the letter of J. P. Kennedy to 
 T. W. White dated April 13, 1835, mention is made of Poe at work on 
 a tragedy, which was probably " Politian." In Poe's miscellanies called 
 "Pinakidia" he says: "Politian, the poet and scholar, was an admirer 
 of 'Alessandria Scala.'" In this drama Poe has one of his characters 
 named "Alessandria." 
 
 The manuscript of the soliloquy spoken by " Politian " alone in the Coli- 
 seum, which ended the drama, has recently come to light. It was ab- 
 stracted from the other manuscript of the drama by Mrs. Lewis, and 
 with a manuscript by Poe of one of her own poems presented by her to 
 an autograph collector many years ago. It will be noted that Poe's verses 
 on "The Coliseum" were evidently made up from this soliloquy which 
 reads in part as follows: — 
 
 " Gaunt vestibules, and phantom-peopled aisles, 
 
 I feel ye now! I feel ye in your strength! 
 
 O spells more sure than e'er Judean king 
 
 Taught in the gardens of Gethsemane! 
 
 O spells more potent than the rapt Chaldee 
 
 Ever drew down from out the quiet stars! 
 
 She comes not and the moon is high in Heaven! 
 
 Here where the hero fell a column falls. 
 
 Here where the mimic eagle glared in gold 
 
328 NOTES 
 
 A secrfet vigil holds the swarthy bat, 
 Here where the dames of Rome their yellow hair 
 Waved to the wind,, now wave the reed and thistle; 
 Here where on ivory couch the Caesar sate 
 On bed of moss lies gloating the foul adder; 
 Here where on golden throne the monarch lolled 
 Glides spectre-like into his marble home. 
 Lit by the wan light of the horned moon. 
 The swift and silent lizard of the stones." 
 A Valentine, page 270. This poem also appeared in the New York 
 Emning Mirror for February 21, 1846. It closely follows the Griswold 
 manuscript version with the exception of "All" in the third line from 
 the last instead of "Ah."' 
 
 For Annie, page 272. The authoir's last copy published of this poem 
 was sent to the Home Journal by Poe, and appeared April 28, 1849. The 
 introductory note in the Home Journal has never been reproduced until 
 now. It was headed "Odd Poem," and continued — "The following 
 exquisite specimen of the private properly in words has been sent us by 
 a friend, and we are glad to be able to add it to the scrap-book of singu- 
 larities in literature which so many of our fair readers, doubtless; have 
 upon the table. Poe certainly has that gift of' nature, which an abstract 
 man should be most proud of — a type of mind difierent from all others 
 without being less truthful in itsperceptions for that difference; and thoiigh" 
 (to use two long words) this land of idiosyncrasy is necessarily idio- 
 pathic, and, from want of sympathy, cannot be largely popular, it is as 
 valuable as rarity in anything dse, and to be admired, by connoisseurs 
 proportionately. Money (to tell a useless truth) could not be better laid 
 out for the honor of this period of American literature — neither by the 
 government, by a society, nor by an individual — than in giving Edgar 
 Poe a competent anniity, on condition that he should never write except 
 upon impulse, never dilute his thoughts for the magazines, and never 
 publish anything till it had been written a year. And this because the 
 threatening dropsy of our country's literature i§ in copying the Gre- 
 gariousness which prevails in everything else, while Mr. Poe is not only 
 peculiar in himself, but unsusceptible of imitation: We have Bulwers 
 by hundreds, Mrs. Hemanses by thousands, Byrons" common as shirt- 
 collars, every kind of writer 'by tiie lot,' and' Ifss oi individualesque 
 genius than any. other country in the woirld. This extends to cither things 
 as well. Horace Greeley is a national jewel (we think), from being 
 humbly yet fearlessly individualesque in poHtics and conduct. What is 
 
NOTES 329 
 
 commonly understood by eccentriciiy is but a trashy copy of what we 
 mean. The reader's mind will easily pick out instances of the true in- 
 dividualesque, in every walk of life, and, as a mere suggestion, we here 
 leave it — proceeding to give Mr. Poe's verses: — 'for annie.' " 
 
 Tamerlane, page 279. In Poe's letter to Mrs. S. H. Whitman, dated 
 October 18, 1848, he quoted the following: "I will erect," I said, "a 
 prouder throne than any on which mere monarch ever sat; and on this 
 throne she — she shall be my queen." This idea is found in these lines, 
 stanzas xi and xa. 
 
 Al Aaraaf, page 298. In connection with Poe's first note to this poem 
 on "Tycho Brahe." His interest in the Swedish astronomer is further 
 shown by a note in the Broadway Journal, vol. 2, No. 19, under the 
 heading of "News of Tycho Brahe." 
 
 In a letter to John Neal dated December 29, 1829, Poe wrote: "I think 
 the best lines for soxmd are these in Al Aaraaf, 
 
 There Nature speaks and even ideal things 
 Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings." 
 
 Romance, page 300. In a letter to John Neal dated December 29, 1829, 
 Poe wrote: " But the best thing [in every respect] is thesmall piece headed 
 'Preface.' I am certain these lines have never been surpassed [Lines 35- 
 39, 1829, quoted] 'It is well to think well of one's self' — so says some- 
 body." 
 
 An Enigma, page 319. This appeared anonymously in the Philadelphia 
 Casket for May, 1827, and the supposition is that it was among other 
 poetry sent out by Poe before he left Richmond in March, 1827. It 
 constitutes the earliest known published verse of Poe's. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 [The following abbreviations are used: — Y. L. G., The Yankee 
 and Boston Literary Gazette; A. C, Atkinson's Philadelphia 
 Casket; B. J., Broadway Journal; S. L. M., Southern Literary 
 Messenger; B. G. M., Burton's Gentleman's Magazine; G. M., 
 Graham's Magazine; S. M., Philadelphia Saturday Museum; 
 Pic, The Pioneer; A. W. R., American Whig Review; S. E. P., 
 Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post; S. M. V., Baltimore Satur- 
 day Morning Visiter; A. M., Baltimore American Museum; G. L. 
 B., Godey's Lady's Book; M. M., New York Missionary Memorial; 
 E. M., Evening Mirror; C. M., Columjiia Magazine; H. J., Home 
 Journal; S. U. M., Sartain's Union Magazine; U. M., Union 
 Magazine; C., London Critic; N. Y. T., New York Tribune; F. U., 
 Flag of Our Union; Gr. 1842, The Poets and Poetry of America, 
 1842; Gr. 1855, The Poets and Poetry of America, 1855; L. W., 
 Literary World; W., Richmond Whig; Gr. 1850, Griswold's 1850 
 Works of E. A. Poe; L. E., Literary Emporium; J. L. G., J. 
 Lorimer Graham copy of 184s, poems with Poe's MS. correc- 
 tions; MSS. Copy of 1829 poems with Poe's MS. corrections; E., 
 Richmond Examiner. The editions of 1827, 1829, 1831, and 1845 
 are indicated by dates; MS., Poe's Manuscript.] 
 
 1827. I. The Vital Stream (No title), 1827; MS. 
 
 2. An Enigma. Philadelphia Casket, May, 1827; B. 
 
 G. M., May, 1840. 
 
 3. Tamerlane. 1827; extracts in Y- L. G., Dec, 
 
 1829; 1829; MS. 1829; 1831; 1845. 
 
 4. Song (I saw thee on thy bridal day). (To ), 
 
 1827, with same title, and 1829; MS. 1829 (In 
 an Album); B. J., ii. 11; 1845. 
 
 5. Dreams. 1827; MS. 1829. 
 
 6. Spirits of the Dead. (Visit of the Dead), 1827; 
 
 1829; MS. 1829; B. G. M., July, 1839. 
 
334 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 7. Evening Star. 1827. 
 
 8. A Dream within a Dream. (Imitation), 1827; 
 
 extract in Y. L. G., Dec., 1829, (To ), 
 
 1829; incorporated in Tamerlane, 1831; For 
 Annie, MS. London Bookman, Jan., 1909; (To 
 ), E., Oct., 1849,; F. U., March 31, 1849. 
 
 9. (In Youth Have I Xnown One With Whom The 
 
 Earth). (No tide), 1827. The title "Stanzas" 
 is the late E. C. Stedman's. 
 
 10. A Dream. (No title), 1827; 1829; B. J., ii, 6; 
 
 1845- 
 
 11. (The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour). (No 
 
 title), 1827. 
 
 12. The Lake, To . (The Lake), 1827; 1829; 
 
 MS. 1829; incorporated in Tamerlane 1831, but 
 not in 184s; 1845; M. M., 1846. 
 1829. 13. Sonnet — To Science. (No title), 1829; A.C., 1830; 
 1831; S. L. M., May, 1836; in the Island of 
 the Fay, G. M., June, 1841; B. J., ii, 4; 1845. 
 
 14. Al Aaraaf. Extracts in Y. L. G., Dec, 1829; re- 
 
 vised in MSS,; 1829; 1831; extracts in S. M., 
 March 4, 1843; 1845; extracts in G. M., Feb., 
 1845; extracts in S. L. M., Oct., 1848. 
 
 15. To . (The bowers, whereat, in dreams I see). 
 
 1829; B. J., ii. 11; 1843. 
 
 16. To the River . 1829; MS. 1829, (In an 
 
 Album) ; B. G. M., Aug., 1839; S. M., March 4, 
 i843;B. J., ii, 9; 1845. 
 
 17. To . (I heed not that my earthly lot). (To 
 
 M — — ). 1829; MS. no date, Gr., 1850. 
 
 18. Fairy-Land. Extracts in Y. L. G., Sept., 1829; 
 
 1829; 1831; B. G. M., Aug., 1839; B. J. ii, 13; 
 1845. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 335 
 
 19. Romance (Preface), 1829; revised in MSS.; (In- 
 
 troduction), 1831; S. M., March 4, 1843; B. J., 
 ii, 8; 1845. 
 
 20. Alone. (No title), MS. (From an Album) Scrib- 
 
 ner's Magazine,SBpt., 1875. Title E.L.Didier's. 
 Another portion of MS. with title exists, but 
 has some connection with 17. 
 1831. 21. To Helen. 1831; S. L. M., March, 1836; G. M., 
 Sept., 1841, and Feb., 1845; S. M., March 4, 
 
 1843; 184s- 
 
 22. Israfel. 1831; S. L. M., Aug., 1836; G. M., Oct., 
 
 1841; S. M., Mai-ch 4, 1843; B. J., ii, 3; 1845; 
 revised in J. L. G,; E., Oct., 1849. 
 
 23. The City in the Sea. (The Doomed City), 1831; 
 
 (The City of Sin), S. L. M., Aug., 1836; A. W. 
 R.; (subtitle, A Prophecy), April, 1845; B. 
 J., ii, 8; 184s; revised in J. L. G. 
 
 24. The Sleeper. (Irene), 1831; MS. (Irene the Dead), 
 
 1836; S. L. M., May, 1836; Gr., 1842; S. M., 
 March 4, 1843; B. J., i, 18; 1845; extracts in 
 letter to Griswold, April 19, 1845; revised in 
 J. L. G.;E., Oct., 1849. 
 
 25. Lenore. (A Paean), 1831, and with same title, S. L. 
 
 M., Jan., 1836; Pio., Feb., 1843 ; S. M., March 4, 
 1843; B.J.,ii,6; 1845; G. M., Feb., 1845; W., 
 Seprt. 18, 1849; revised in J. L. G.; E., Oct., 
 1849; extracts in S. L. M-, May, 1849; Gr., 
 1850, 
 
 26. The Valley of Unrest. (The VaUey Nis), 1831; 
 
 and with same title, S. L. M., Feb., 1836; 
 A. W. R., April, 184s; B. J., ii, 9; 1845. 
 sj. lines to Joe Locke. MS., S. M., March 4, 
 1843- 
 
336 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 1832. 28. Elizabeth. Written in his cousin Elizabeth Her- 
 ring's album about 1832. 
 
 29. From an Album. From his cousin Elizabeth 
 
 Herring's album about 1832. 
 
 30. To F s S. O d. (To Elizabeth), written 
 
 in his cousin Elizabeth Herring's albimi about 
 1832. (Lines written in an Album), S. L. M., 
 
 Sept., 1835; (To ), B. G. M., Aug., 1839 
 
 (To F ), B. J., ii, 10; 1845. 
 
 31. Hymn. (No title), MS. of Morella about 1832-33; 
 
 S. L. M. (in Morella), April, 1835; and in the 
 same tale, B. G. M., Nov., 1839; Tales, 1840 
 and B. J., (Catholic Hymn), ii, 6, and with 
 same title, 1845; revised in J. L. G. 
 
 32. Scenes from Politian. (Scenes from an Unpub- 
 
 lished Drama), MS. about 1831-32; S. L. M., 
 Dec, 183s, Jan., 1836; 1845; extracts in B. J., 
 i, 13; revised in J. L. G. Extracts in The 
 Southern Magazine, Nov., 1875; extracts in The 
 " Chandos Classics." London and New York, 
 1888. 
 
 1833- 33- The Coliseum. S. M.V., 1833; S.L. M. (with sub- 
 title A Prize Poem), Aug., 1835; also with sub- 
 title, S. E. P., June 12, 1841; (Coliseum), Gr., 
 1842; S. M., March 4, 1843; B. J., ii, i; 1845; 
 extracts from MS. in The Bibliophile, London, 
 May, 1909. 
 
 1834. 34. To One in Paradise. (No title), G. L. B. (in The 
 Visionary), January, 1834, and S. L. M. (in the 
 same), July, 1835; (To lanthe in Heaven), B. 
 G. M., July, 1839; Tales (in The Visionary), 
 1840; S. M., March 4, 1843; MS. prior to 1845, 
 with title "To One Departed," B. J., i, 19; B. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 337 
 
 J. (in The Assignation), i, 23; 1845; revised in 
 J. L. G.; from MS.; London Spectator, Jan. i, 
 1853; same in L. W., Feb. s, 1853. 
 
 1835. 35. The Great Man. MS. From Poe's Southern 
 
 Literary Messenger desk. Written on paper 
 made prior to 1836. 
 
 36. To F . (To Mary), S. L. M., July, 1835; (To 
 
 One Departed), G. M., March, 1842; and with 
 same title, S. M., March 4, 1843; B. J., i, 17; 
 184s. 
 
 37. To Sarah. S. L. M., Aug., 1833. 
 
 1836. 38. Spiritual Song. MS. from Poe's Southern Lit- 
 
 erary Messenger desk, 1836. 
 
 39. Latin Hymn, in tale Four Beasts in One. S. L. M. 
 
 title (Epimanes), March, 1836; 1840; B. J., ii, 
 22. ■• --.,----• -^ 
 
 40. Song of Triumph, in Four Beasts in One. S. L. M. 
 
 title (Epimanes), March, 1836; 1840; B. J., ii, 
 22, ' : ■ ' 
 
 1837. 41, Bridal Ballad, 8. L. M,, Jan,, 1837; (Ballad), 
 
 S. E. P., July 31, 1841; (Song of the Newly 
 Wedded), S. M., March 4, 1843; B. J., ii, 4; 
 184s; revised in J, L. G.; E., Oct., 1849, 
 42. Sonnet — To Zante, S. L. M., Jan., 1837; S. M., 
 March 4, 1843; MS, 1840; B. J., ii, 2; 1845. 
 
 1839, 43. The Haunted Palace, A. M., April, 1839; (No 
 
 title), B. G. M.; (in the Fall of the House of 
 Usher), Sept,, 1839, ^^'^ Tales (in the same), 
 1840; Gr., 1842 ; S. M., March 4, 1843 (No title) ; 
 G. M„ Feb., 184s; revised in J, L. G.; Tales 
 as before, 1845; MS. about 1849; E,, Oct., 
 1849, 
 
 1840. 44, Silence. (Silence, A Sonnet), B. G, M., April, 1840; 
 
338 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 (Sotinet — Silence), S. M., March 4, 1843; and 
 with title, B. J., ii, 3; 1845. 
 
 1843. 45. The Conqueror Worm. G. M., Jan., 1843; MS.; 
 
 S. M., March 4, 1843; B. J. (in Ligeia), ii, 12; 
 revised in J. L. G.; 1845; MS. about 1849; E., 
 Oct., 1849. 
 
 1844. 46. Dream-Land. G. M., June, 1844; B. J., i, 26; 
 
 184s; revised in J. L. G.; E., Oct. 29, 1849. 
 
 1845. 47. The Raven. A. W. R., Feb., 1845; E. M., Jan. 29, 
 
 184s; same text in weekly issue Feb. 8, 1845; 
 S. L. M., March, 1845; extracts in Shea MS.; 
 C, June, 184s; extracts in B. J., i, 21; ex- 
 tracts in letter to Griswold, April 19, 1845; 
 L. E., 1845; extracts in G. M., April, 1846; re- 
 vised in J. L. G.; E., Sept. 25, 1849. 
 
 48. The Divine Right of Kings. G. M., Oct., 1845. 
 
 49. Stanzas. G. M., Dec., 1845. 
 
 50. Impromptu. (To Kate Carol), B. J., i, 17. 
 
 51. Eulalie. A. W. R., (subtitle, A Song), July, 1845; 
 
 MS., no date; also with subtitle, B. J., ii, 5; 1845; 
 revised in J. L. G. 
 
 52. Deep in Earth My Love is Lying. MS. 
 
 1847. S3- To M. L. S . MS., Feb., 1847. (To Mrs. M. 
 
 L. S.); H. J., March 13, 1847. Addressed to 
 Mrs. M. L. Shew. 
 S4- Ulalume. A Ballad. A. W. R. (subtitle. To 
 
 ), December, 1847; H. J., Jan. i, 1848; 
 
 L. W., March 3, 1849; E., Oct., 1849; Gr., 1850 
 and i8ss; MS., 1849. 
 
 1848. SS- Gratitude. Symposia. Jan., 1848. 
 
 56. To . C. M., March, 1848, addressed to 
 
 Mrs. M. L. Shew; MS., (To Marie Louise), 
 1848. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 339 
 
 57. Sonnet, U. M., March, 1848. MS. sent to Mrs. 
 
 S. A. Lewis, in Nov., 1847; (An Enigma). Gr., 
 1850. 
 
 58. To . U. M., Nov., 1848, addressed to Mrs. 
 
 S. H. WMtman; (To Helen), Gr., 1850. MS. 
 sent to Bayard Taylor, June 15, 1848. 
 
 1849. 59. A Valentine. To . E. M., Feb. 21, 1846; 
 
 S. U. M., March, 1849; F. U., March 3, 1849, 
 dated "Valentine Eve, 1849"; MS. 1846 and 
 1848. Addressed to Mrs. Frances Sargent 
 Osgood. 
 
 60. Eldorado, F. U., April 21, 1849; Gr., 1850. 
 
 61. For Annie. F. U. and H. J., April 28, 1849, E., 
 
 Oct., 1849; MS. sent to Mrs. Richmond, 1849; 
 Gr., 1850. Another MS., with same title, sent 
 Mrs. Richmond later, has reference to 8. 
 
 62. Sonnet — To My Mother. F. U. (To My Mo- 
 
 ther), July 7, 1849; E., Oct., 1849; S. L. M., 
 Dec, 1849; Leaflets of Memory, 1850. 
 
 63. Annabel Lee. N. Y. T., Oct. 9, 1849; S. L. M., 
 
 Nov., 1849; S. U. M., Jan., 1850. E., Oct., 
 1849; MS., 1849; Gr., 1850, and 1855. 
 
 64. The Bells. E., Oct., 1849; S. U. M., Nov., 18491 
 
 MS., 1849. 
 
INDEXES 
 
INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 A thousand, a thousand, a thousand 158 
 
 Ah, broken is the golden bowl! — the spirit flown forever! ... 21 
 
 As for Locke, he is all in my eye 153 
 
 As turns the eye to bless the hand that led its infant years . . . 144 
 
 At midnight, in the month of June 17 
 
 At morn — at noon — at twilight dim — 23 
 
 Because the angels in the Heavens above ^S 
 
 Beloved! amid the earnest woes. 34 
 
 By a route obscure and lonely 26 
 
 Deep in earth my love is lying 152 
 
 Dim vales — and shadowy floods — 132 
 
 Elizabeth it is in vain you say 141 
 
 Elizabeth — it surely is most fit 140 
 
 Fair isle, that from the fairest of all flowers 28 
 
 Fair river! in thy bright, clear flow 130 
 
 Fairies guard the Queen of May 164 
 
 First, find out a word that doth silence proclaim 146 
 
 Flow softly — gently — vital stream ISI 
 
 For her these lines are penned, whose luminous eyes 73 
 
 from childhood's hour I have not been 13S 
 
 Gaily bedight 79 
 
 Hark, echo! — Hark; echo! 139 
 
 Hear the sledges with the bells — 63 
 
 Helen, thy beauty is to me I34 
 
 I dwelt alone 32 
 
 I heed not that my earthly lot 131 
 
 I saw thee once — once only — years ago 7° 
 
 I saw thee on thy bridal day — II7 
 
 In Heaven a spirit doth dwell 24 
 
 In the greenest of our valleys 38 
 
 In visions of the dark night 126 
 
 In youth have I known one with whom the Earth 124 
 
 In youth's spring it was my lot 128 
 
 It was many and many a year ago 80 
 
344 INDEX OF FIRST LINES 
 
 Kind solace in a dying hourl ... 89 
 
 Lady! I would that verse of mine 148 
 
 -Lo! Death has reared himself a thione zg 
 
 Lo! one is on the mountain side 159 
 
 Lo! 't is a gala night 36 
 
 Not long ago, the writer of these lines . . 68 
 
 0! Nothing earthly save the ray gp 
 
 Of all who hail thy presence as the morning — 67 
 
 Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! 118 
 
 Oh Times! Oh Manners! It is my opinion 168 
 
 Once it smiled a silent dell 14 
 
 Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary . 7 , 
 
 Romance, who loves to nod and sing . 116 
 
 Science! true daughter of Old Time thou art! 98 
 
 " Seldom we find," says Solomon Don Dunce 69 
 
 Sleep on, sleep on, another hour 166 
 
 So sweet the hour — so calm the time 175 
 
 Take this Idss upon thy brow! 123 
 
 Thanic Heaven! the crisis — 74 
 
 The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see I2g 
 
 The dying swan by northern lakes 165 
 
 The great man lives forever shrined in the hearts of men .... 143 
 
 The happiest day — the happiest hour 127 
 
 The only king by right divine 150 
 
 The ring is on my hand 15 
 
 The skies they were ashen and sober 82 
 
 There are some qualities — some incorporate things 35 
 
 Thou art sad, Castiglione 40 
 
 Thou dark, sea-stirring storm 162 
 
 Thou wast that all to me, love 31 
 
 Thou wouldst be loved? — then let thy heart 33 
 
 Thy soul shall find itself alone 120 
 
 'T was noontide of summer 122 
 
 Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary ........ 19 
 
 When from your gems of thought I turn . 147 
 
 When melancholy and alone 142 
 
 Who is king but Epiphaues? 157 
 
INDEX OF TITLES 
 
 "A wilder'd being from my birth." 
 
 See Dream, A. 
 Al Aaraaf, gg, 298, 329. 
 Alone (From an Album), 135. 
 Annabel Lee, 80, 274. 
 Annie. See For Annie. 
 
 Bells, The, 63, 262. 
 Bridal Ballad (Ballad; Song o{ the 
 Newly Wedded), 15, 233. 
 
 Catholic Hymn. See Hymn. 
 City in the Sea, The. (City of Sin; 
 
 The Doomed City), 29, 250. 
 Coliseum, The, 19, 239. 
 Conqueror Worm, The, 36, 256. 
 Couplet ("Deep in earth my love is 
 
 lying"), 152, 321. 
 
 " Deep in earth my love is lying," 
 
 152. 
 Divine Right of Kings, The, 150, 
 
 320. 
 Doomed City, The. See City in the 
 
 Sea, The. 
 Dream, A, 126, 308. 
 Dream within a Dream, A. See 
 
 To . 
 
 Dream-Land, 26, 249. 
 Dreams, 118, 303. 
 
 Eldorado, 79, 274. 
 Elizabeth, 140, 316. 
 Enigma, An, 146, 319, 329. (Son- 
 net, 69, 269.) 
 Eulalie — A Song, 32, 254, 323. 
 Evening Star, 122, 305. 
 
 Fairy-Land, 132, 312. 
 Fanny, 165. 
 
 For Annie, 74, 272, 328. 
 From an Album, 141, 317; (Alone), 
 13s. 314. 
 
 Gratitude, To , 144, 318. 
 
 Great Man, The, 143, 317. 
 
 Haunted Palace, The, 38, 257, 324. 
 Helen. See To Helen. 
 Hymn (Catholic Hymn), 23, 246. 
 Hymn, Latin, 138. 
 
 Imitation. See Dream within a 
 
 Dream, A. 
 Impromptu (To Kate Carol), 147, 
 
 319. 
 "In Youth have I known one with 
 
 whom the Earth," 124, 308. 
 Introduction. See Romance. 
 Irene (Irene the Dead). See Sleeper, 
 
 The. 
 Israfel, 24, 247. 
 
 Lake, The. To , 128, 308. 
 
 Lenore (Paean, A), 21, 241. 
 Lines to Joe Locke, 153, 322. 
 
 Magician, The, i6z. 
 
 Oh, Temporal Oh, Mores! 167. 
 
 Paean, A. See Lenore. 
 "Politian," Scenes from An Un- 
 published Drama, 40, 258, 324. 
 
346 
 
 INDEX OF TITLES 
 
 Preface. See Romance. 
 
 Queen of May Ode, 164. 
 
 Raven, The, 7, 224, 323. 
 
 River. See To the River . 
 
 Romance (Introduction; Preface), 
 116, 300, 329. 
 
 Sarah. See To Sarah. 
 
 Scenes from "Politian." See"Poli- 
 tian," Scenes from An Unpub- 
 lished Drama. 
 
 Science. See Sonnet to Science. 
 
 Serenade, 175. 
 
 Silence. See Sonnet to Silence. 
 
 Skeleton-Hand, The, 139. 
 
 Sleeper, The. (Irene; Irene the 
 Dead), 17, 236. 
 
 Song (To "I saw thee on thy 
 
 bridal day"), 117, 303. 
 
 Song of the Newly Wedded. See 
 Bridal Ballad. 
 
 Song of Triumph, 157. 
 
 Sonnet ("Seldom we find"),69, 269. 
 
 Sonnet — Silence (Silence. A Son- 
 net), 3S, 255. 
 
 Sonnet — To My Mother, 78, 273. 
 
 Sonnet — To Science, 98, 297. 
 
 Sonnet — To Zante, 28, 250. 
 
 Spirits of the Dead (Visit of the 
 Dead), 120, 304. 
 
 Spiritual Song, 139, 31S. 
 
 Stanzas, 148, 320. 
 
 Tamerlane, 89, 279, 329. 
 
 "The Happiest Day, the Happiest 
 
 Hour," 127, 308. 
 To (A Dream within a 
 
 Dream), 123, 305. 
 
 To (To Marie Lou- 
 ise; Mrs. M. L. Shew), 68, 268. 
 
 To (Mrs. S. H. 
 
 Whitman), 70, 269. 
 
 To F (To Mary; To One »e- 
 
 parted), 34, 254- 
 
 To F s S. O d; To Elizabeth 
 
 (Lines written in an Album; To 
 ; To F ), 33, 2S4, 323- 
 
 To Helen, 134, 314. 
 
 To ("I need not that my 
 
 earthly lot"), 131, 310. 
 
 To lanthc in Heaven. See To One 
 in Paradise. 
 
 To Kate Carol. See Impromptu. 
 
 To (" Sleep on, sleep on, an- 
 other hour"), 166. 
 
 To — :- ("The bowers whereat, in 
 dreams, I see"), 129, 310. 
 
 To M. L. S , 67, 268. 
 
 To My Mother. See Sormet to My 
 Mother. 
 
 To One Departed. See To F . 
 
 To One in Paradise (To lanthe in 
 Heaven; To One Departed), 31, 
 2S2, 323. 
 
 To Sarah, 142, 317. 
 
 To the River , 130, 310. 
 
 Ulalume — A Ballad, 82, 276. 
 
 Valentine, A. To ^— , 
 
 73. 270, 328. 
 Valley of Unrest, The (The Valley 
 
 Nis), 14, 231. 
 Visit of the Dead. See Spirits of the 
 
 Dead. 
 Vital Stream, The, 151, 321. 
 
 Zante. See Sonnet to Zante.