Complete poems of Edgar Allan Poe / [by Edgar Allan Poe] ; collected, edited, and arranged with memoir, textual notes and bibliography by J.H. Whitty [electronic text]

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 published 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;The Baltimore Saturday Morning Visitor;Richmond Southern Literary Messenger;Godey's Lady's Book;Baltimore American Museum;Burton's Gentleman's Magazine;Graham's Magazine;Philadelphia Saturday Museum;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 Memorial; 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 Examiner; 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 1845 poems, with corrections in Poe's hand, and the F. W. Thomas manuscript Recollections of E. A. Poe, with poems contributed to the Richmond Examiner, corrected 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 warmAnd make mistakes for manhood to reform.

— COWPER.

Boston./ CALVIN F. S. THOMAS . . . PRINTER / 1827.

Collation: Title, p. 1; verso blank, p. 2; Preface, pp. 3-4; TAMERLANE, pp. 5-21; verso blank, p. 22; half title, Fugitive Pieces, p. 23; verso blank, p. 24; Fugitive Pieces, pp. 25-34; half title, Notes, p. 35;

verso blank, p. 36; Notes, pp. 37-40. Contents: Tamerlane; Fugitive Pieces: To —; Dreams; Visit of the Dead; Evening Star; Imitation; Communion with Nature; A wilder'd being from my birth; The happiest day — the happiest hour; The Lake; 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.

The 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.

"In 'Tamerlane' 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 AARAAF, / 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 corner: Matchett & Woods Printers); p. 3, quotation:

Entiendes, Fabio, lo que voi deciendo?Toma, si, lo entendio:

— Mientes, Fabio.
p. 4, blank; p. 5, half title: AL AARAAF; verso, p. 6:

What has night to do with sleep?

— COMUS.

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, AL AARAAF, 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 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. / p. 42, blank; pp. 43-54, TAMERLANE; / p. 55, half title, MISCELLANEOUS POEMS; p. 56:

My nothingness — my wants —My sins — And my contrition —

SOUTHEY E. PERSIS. 1 1.1

And some flowers — but no bays.

— MILTON.
p. 57, poem, Romance; p 58, blank; pp. 59-71, POEMS, numbered 1 to 9. 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 / EdgarA. Poe. / (Rule) Tout le Monde a Raison. —
Rochefoucault. / (Rule) Second Edition / (Rule) New York: / Published by Elam Bliss. / (Rule) 1831

Collation: p. 1, half title, Poems; verso blank, p. 2; p. 3, title; p. 4, imprint; p. 5, Dedication, To The U. S. / Corps Of Cadets / This volume

/ 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 Pæan, The Valley Nis, Science, A1 Aaraaf, Tamerlane. Size of leaf untrimmed 6.75 by 3.75 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, 1 1.2 with the Southern Literary Messenger 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, "Shakespeare is in possession of the world's good opinion, and yet Shakespeare is the greatest of poets. It appears then that the world judge correctly, 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 bought it; he did not write the book, but it is his; they did not originate the opinion, but it is theirs. A fool, for example, 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 but for them would never have been discovered — this neighbor asserts that Shakespeare is a 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

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 empire — an established name is an estate in tenure, or a throne in possession. Besides, one might suppose that books, like 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 another. 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 example of the contrary; but his opinion with respect 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, in fact, the Paradise Regained is little, if at all, inferior to the Paradise 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

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 philosophical of all writings; * 1.3 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 existence 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 pleasure is the end already obtained which instruction is merely the means of obtaining.

I see no reason, then, why our metaphysical poets should plume themselves 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 passion — it becomes the metaphysician to reason — but the poet to protest. Yet Wordsworth and Coleridge are men in years; the one imbued 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 oftener err by seeking them at the bottom than at the top; the depth

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 wisdom of a man. ( * 1.4Poetry 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 et quibusdam aliis. He goes wrong by reason of his very profundity, and of his error we have a natural type in the contemplation 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 Dorado) — 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 ( † 1.5avalanche).

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 consequently is too correct. This may not be understood, — but the old Goths of Germany would have understood it, who used to debate matters 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 admiration of his poetry, speak very little in his favor: they are full of such assertions 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 unworthy to be done, or what has been done before, no

genius can be evinced; yet the picking of pockets is an unworthy act, pockets have been picked time immemorial, and Barrington, the pickpocket, 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's or M'Pherson's, can surely be of little consequence, yet, in order to prove their worthlessness, Mr. W. has expended many pages in the controversy. Tantæne animis? Can great minds descend to such absurdity? 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 beginning of the epic poem * 1.6 "Temora." "The blue waves of Ullin 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 — this, William Wordsworth, the author of "Peter Bell," has selected for his contempt. We shall see what better he in his own person, has to offer. 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 stifled her with bliss —A few sad tears does Betty shed,She pats the pony where or whenShe 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 espiedA 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

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 writers, 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 (ha! 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! ha! 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 intellect! his gigantic power! 1 1.7 (He is one more evidence of the fact) (To use an author quoted by himself, "J'ai trouvé souvent) 2 1.8 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,) 3 1.9he has imprisoned his own conceptions by the barrier he has erected against those of others. It is lamentable to think that such a mind should be buried in metaphysics, and, like the Nyctanthes, waste its perfume upon the night alone. In reading [that man's 4 1.10] poetry, I tremble, like one who stands upon a volcano, conscious, from the very darkness 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 appellations as the nine-titled Corcyra! Give me, I demanded of a scholar some time ago, give me a definition of poetry. "Très-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 scurrilous Ursa Major. 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 Midsummer 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

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 essential, since the comprehension of sweet sound is our most indefinite conception. 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 definitiveness.

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 contempt. That they have followers proves nothing — The Indian prince has to his palaceMore followers than a thief to the gallows.

1845

The Raven / And / Other Poems. / By / Edgar A. Poe. / New
York: / Wiley & Putnam, 161 Broadway. / 1845.

Collation: half-title. Wiley And Putnam's / Library Of / AMERICAN BOOKS. / The Raven and Other Poems. Title, p. I; with copyright and imprint on verso, p. II; dedication, p. III; 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

American Whig ReviewEvening MirrorSouthern Literary MessengerLondon CriticLiterary EmporiumRichmond Examiner

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• II.
  • 3. sought: tried, all others except 1845.
  • 6. here: no italics except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
• III. 6. This: That. L.E.

• V. 3. stillness: darkness, all others except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
• VI.
  • 1. Back: Then, all others except 1845 and J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
  • 2. again I heard: I heard again, all others except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
• VII. 3. minute: instant all others except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
• IX.
  • 3. living human: sublunary. A. W. R.
  • 6. Then the bird said: Quoth the raven. A. W. R.; E. M.
• XI.
  • 1. Startled: wondering. A. W. R.
  • 4. songs: song. C.
  • 4-6. till . . . nevermore: so when Hope he would adjure Stern Despair returned, instead of the sweet Hope he dared adjure.
    That sad answer, "Nevermore." A. W. R.; E. M.
  • 5. That: the, all others except 1845, and J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
  • 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. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
• XIII. 1. This: Thus. C.
• XIV.
  • 2. seraphim whose: angels whose faint, all others except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
  • 5. Quaff, oh: Let me. A. W. R.
• XVIII.
  • 1. 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 nappingSuddenly 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 Composition," two verbal variations are found — VII. 3. minute for moment and X. 1. 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 London

Critic, June, 1845; fifth as revised in the edition of the 1845 poems; sixth as revised in the J. Lorimer Graham copy of the 1845 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 Solle, 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 Penzoni, 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 commencing '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 storeCaught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful DisasterFollowed 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 raven Nevermore, substitute 'Then the bird said "Nevermore."' —

Truly yours, POE."

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 together 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 anonymously of "The Raven" which appeared in the Whig 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 correspondent 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 following notice of Shea's death:

"We note with regret the death of James Augustus 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 published 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 conception of the bracket candelabrum affixed 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 Composition." The text of "The Raven" given in editions of Poe's poems since Griswold's time as revised by Poe for the Broadway Journal, February 8, 1845, is an error. Poe at that time was employed on the Mirror, and

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 copied 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 running — 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 Emporium volume, which was further confirmed by printers who worked 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 Broadway 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 correspondent — besides the deep quaint strain of the sentiment, and the curious introduction of some ludicrous touches amidst the serious and impressive, 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 sound, 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 alliteration, and the studious use of similar sounds in unusual places. In regard 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 —

mostly the second 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, 1845: We are permitted to copy (in advance of publication) from the second number of The American Review,the following remarkable 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, masterly 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, says: "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 pretend 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 sullen 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."

Richmond Examiner, September 25, 1849: Mr. Edgar A. Poe lectured again last night on the "Poetic Principle" and concluded his lecture as before with his now celebrated poem of "The Raven." As the attention 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 bookstores, 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 superior to it as a work of construction and design while the former is superior 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 high among all persons

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 newspaper. 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, — criticism and explanation are useless with such. Criticism cannot reason people into an attachment. In spite of our plans, such will talk of the gaudiness 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 pronounce "The Raven" flat nonsense. Another class will be disgusted therewith because they can see no purpose, no allegory, 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. That theory is all false. 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 of the beautiful in human minds. — That sense is a simple element in our nature — 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 is a "thing of beauty" and will be a "joy forever" for that and no further reason. In the last stanza is an image of settled despair and despondency, which throws a gleam of meaning and allegory over the entire poem — making it all a personification of that passion — but that stanza is evidently an afterthought, and unconnected with the original poem.." The 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 situation and his dead sweetheart or wife. Such is the poem. The last stanza is an afterthought. The worth of "The Raven" is not in any "moral," nor is its charm in the construction of its story. Its great and wonderful merits consist in the strange, beautiful, and fantastic imagery

and color with which the simple subject is clothed, the grave and supernatural 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 like the mazes of some complicated 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 Raven" 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.

NOTE. — It is known that Poe 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, Broadway Journal,Southern Literary Messenger,

Text, 1845.
Variations from the text: —

• 18. rustle: rustles. A. W. R.
• ...

  19. Uneasily: Unceasingly. A. W. R.; B. J.

  After 27 insert: —

  They wave; they weep; and the tears as they wellFrom 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 leastLies that valley as the dayDown within the golden east —All things lovely — are not theyFar away — far away?

• ...

  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, Having gone unto the wars — And the sly, mysterious stars, With a visage full of meaning, O'er the unguarded 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 —

• ...

  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 confessNothing there is motionless:Nothing save the airs that broodO'er the enchanted solitude,Save the airs with pinions furledThat slumber o'er the valley-world.No wind in Heaven, and lo! the treesDo 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 waterfallO'er th' horizon's fiery wall —And Helen, like thy human eye,Low crouched on Earth, some violets lie,And, nearer Heaven, some lilies waveAll banner-like, above a grave.And, one by one, from out their topsEternal dews come down in drops,Ah, one by one, from off their stemsEternal dews come down in gems!

BRIDAL BALLAD

Southern Literary Messenger,Saturday Evening Post,Saturday Museum,Broadway Journal,Richmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• I. 3. Insert after: —
  And many a rood of land. S. L. M.

• II.
  • 1. He has loved me long and well. S. L. M.
  • 2. But: And: first, omit. S. L. M.
  • 4. as:like. B. J.; S. M.
    rang as a knell: were his who fell. S. L. M. rang like a knell. B. J.
  • 5. Omit. S. L. M.
• III.
  • 1. But: And. S. L. M.
  • 3. While: But. 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 plightedAn irrevocable vow —And my friends are all delightedThat his love I have requited —And my mind is much benightedIf 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.

    I 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 tokenThat I am happy now.

    Omit all others, except J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
• V. 5. Lest: And. S. L. M.

Note: The addition of the two new lines in the fourth stanza of this poem shows the interesting way in which Poe derived his very characteristic 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."

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 submitting 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 I promised not?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 anotherAnd my heart is lonely now;They remember'd not our parting —They remember'd not our tears,They have sever'd in one fatal hourThe 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 I know with gold they won theeAnd 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

What she never can forget; And tho' my poor heart be broken, It will love her, love her yet. Oh! was it weel, etc."

THE SLEEPER

Philadelphia Saturday Museum, Broadway Journal, Southern Literary Messenger, Richmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• 11. fog: mist. P. P. A.
• 16. Insert after: —
  Her casement open to the skies. S. M.; 1845; B. J.;Her: 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 melancholyI pray to God that she may lieForever with uncloséd eye!My love she sleeps, O, may her sleepAs 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:—

IRENE

'T is now (so sings the soaring moon)Midnight in the sweet month of June,

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!"

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, Flutt'ring triumphant o'er the palls Of her old family funerals.

Variations from the above: —

• 1-2.

  I stand beneath the soaring moonAt midnight in the month of June.

  S. L. M.; MS.

• 3-8. omit S. L. M.; 10, that: yon. S. L. M.; her MS.; 18. bright pines:cedars. S. L. M.; 20. reels with bliss, nodding hangs. S. L. M.; 21. Above 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 uncloséd eye, should read: 'Forever with unopen'd eye.'

"Is it possible to make the alteration?" This was never corrected by Griswold.

Poe'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 McCabe 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 Visitor,Southern Literary Messenger, Philadelphia Saturday Evening Post,

Philadelphia Saturday Museum, Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845.
Variations from the text : —

• 1. The: Omit. S. M. V.
• 8. Thy: the. So drink: the dank. S. M. V.
  Amid: Within. P. P. A.
• 11. 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 Cæsar sate,On bed of moss lies gloating the foul adder.

  S. L. M.
• 22. Monarch lolled: Cæsar 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. But stay—these: 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 Visitor.

The first nine lines of the poem are printed in The Bibliophile, of London, England, for May, 1909, from a fragment of a Poe MS. The only variation is, "stands" 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 the first text from the Baltimore Saturday Morning Visitor is now in our possession from Professor J. H. Hewell, who was the editor, and received the prize for the competing poem. The variant readings of same are given here for the first time.

The MS. in The Bibliophile is evidently a portion of the MS. of "Politian" — which ended with some of the lines from this poem.

LENORE

The Pioneer,Philadelphia Saturday Museum,Graham's Magazine,Broadway Journal,Southern Literary Messenger, Richmond Whig,Richmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Whig.
Variations from the text: —

• I. 5. Come: Ah. G. M.
• II.
  • 1. And ye: ye out all others.
  • 3. Shall: no italics. G. M.
• III.
  • 1. Yet: but; but: and all others.
  • 3. Gone before: quotation marks all others.
  • 5. Debonnaire: Italics all others.
• IV.
  • 1. to friends, from fiends: from fiends below. J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
  • 2. Utmost: out all others
  • 3. Moan: Grief. J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
  • 4. no: no italics. 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 PÆAN

I

How shall the burial rite be read?The solemn song be sung?The requiem for the loveliest dead,That ever died so young?

II

Her friends are gazing on her,And on her gaudy bier,And weep! — oh! to dishonorDead beauty with a tear!

III

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.

IV

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 —

V

Or that my tone should be Tun'd to such solemn song So mournfully — so mournfully, That the dead may feel no wrong.

VI

But she is gone above, With young Hope at her side, And I am drunk with love Of the dead, who is my bride.

VII

Of the dead — dead who lies All perfum'd there, With the death upon her eyes, And the life upon her hair.

VIII

Thus on the coffin loud and long I strike — the murmur sent Through the gray chambers to my song, Shall be the accompaniment.

IX

Thou died'st in thy life's June — But thou didst not die too fair:

Thou didst not die too soon, Nor with too calm an air.

X

From more than fiends on earth, Thy life and love are riven, To join the untainted mirth Of more than thrones in heaven —

XI

Therefore, to thee this night I will no requiem raise, But waft thee on thy flight With a Pæan of old days.

• II. 4. Dead: Her.
• VII.
  • 1. dead who: dead — who.
  • 2. perfum'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 bowl!The spirit flown forever!Let the bell toll! — A saintly soulGlides down the Stygian river!And let the burial rite be read —The funeral song be sung —A dirge for the most lovely deadThat ever died so young!And, Guy De Vere,

Hast thou no tear? Weep now or nevermore! See, on yon drear And rigid bier, Low lies thy love Lenore!

"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 shall 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! But rave not thus! And let the solemn song Go up to God so mournfully that she may feel no wrong! The sweet Lenore 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 —

No dirge will I upraise, But waft the angel on her flight With a Pæan 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 damnéd earth— To friends above, from fiends below, Th' indignant ghost is riven— From grief and moan To a gold throne Beside the King of Heaven!"

• I. 4. Glides down: Floats on.
• II. 11. 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 pæan 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 damnéd 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 punctuation changes. In that newspaper was 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 December, 1844, Poe said: "Her tone is not so much the 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 better

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. Sledman. 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 also in Griswold's possession, and while he used some slight changes in the volume he allowed this poem to stand unrevised. The text of stanza four of the poem is largely a reconstruction of the elements in the Broadway Journal version of that stanza.

HYMN

Southern Literary Messenger, Burton's Gentleman's Magazine,Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845.
Variations from the text: —

• Insert before:—

  Sancta Maria! turn thine eyesUpon the sinner's sacrificeOf 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.
• 5. 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.

Note: Poe struck out the word "Catholic" from the title of this poem in the J. Lorimer Graham copy of the 1845 poems.

ISRAFEL

Southern Literary Messenger,Graham's Magazine,Philadelphia Saturday Museum,Broadway Journal, Richmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• II. 6. Transpose with 8. G. M.
• III.
  • 4. Owing to: due unto. G. M.
  • 6. The: That. Wire: Lyre. G. M.
  • 7. Of: With. G. M.
• IV.
  • 1. Skies: Heavens. G. M.
  • 3. Grown up: Grown. Loves: Love 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. 1. Thou art not, therefore. S. M.; B. J; G. M.
• VIII.
  • 1. Could: did. G. M.
  • 4. So wildly: one half so. G. M.
  • 5. One half so passionately. G. M.

Note: In the Broadway Journal, Poe's quotation in the footnote is attributed to Sales 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: —

ISRAFEL

1 1.11

I

In Heaven a spirit doth dwellWhose heart-strings are a lute—None sing so wild — so wellAs the angel Israfel —And the giddy stars are mute.

II

Tottering above In her highest noon The enamoured moon Blushes with love — While, to listen, the red levin Pauses in Heaven.

III

And they say (the starry choir And all the listening things) That Israfeli's fire Is owing to that lyre With those unusual strings.

IV

But the Heavens that angel trod Where deep thoughts are a duty — Where Love is a grown god — Where Houri glances are — Stay! turn thine eyes afar! — Imbued with all the beauty — Which we worship in yon star. —

V

Thou art not, therefore, wrong Israfeli, who despisest An unimpassion'd song: To thee the laurels belong Best bard, — because the wisest.

VI

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!

VII

Yes, Heaven is thine: but thisIs a world of sweets and sours:Our flowers are merely — flowers,And the shadow of thy blissIs the sunshine of ours.

VlIl

If I did dwell where IsrafelHath dwelt, and he where I,He would not sing one half as well—One half as passionately,While a stormier note than this would swellFrom my lyre within the sky.

Variations of Southern Literary Messenger from above: —

• IV. 5. Omit. 7. yon: a; VIII. 4. So: As; 5. While a stormier: And a loftier.

DREAM-LAND

Graham's Magazine, Broadway Journal,Richmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• 12. dews: tears. J. Lorimer Graham, 1845.
• 20. Insert after 1-6. except 5, 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 5, read journeyed home for reached these lands and 6. this for an. G. M.
• 42. O! it is: 'T is — oh, 't is, all others.
• 47. Its: the. G. M.; B. J.
• 50. Beholds: Beyond. E.

Note: Poe used lines nine to twelve of this poem with slight variations in his early poem on "Fairy-Land."

SONNET — TO ZANTE

Southern Literary Messenger, Philadelphia Saturday Museum,Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845.
Note: The germ of this poem like others may be found 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!Isola d'oro! — Fior di Levante!"

The MS. of this poem has an interesting history. The original owner 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. Stedman, 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 ReviewBroadway Journal,Southern Literary Messenger,

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 bad. A. W. R.

The 1831 version reads as follows: —

THE DOOMED CITY

Lo! Death hath rear'd himself a throneIn 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 towersAre — not like anything of ours —O! no — O! no — ours never loomTo heaven with that ungodly gloom!Time-eaten towers that tremble not!Around, by lifting winds forgot,Resignedly beneath the skyThe melancholy waters lie.A heaven that God doth not contemnWith stars is like a diadem —We liken our ladies' eyes to them —But there! That everlasting pall!It would be mockery to callSuch dreariness a heaven at all.

Yet tho' no holy rays come downOn the long night-time of that town,Light from the lurid, deep seaStreams up the turrets silently —Up thrones — up long-forgotten bowersOf sculptur'd ivy and stone flowers —Up domes — up spires — up kingly halls —Up fanes — up Babylon-like walls —Up many a melancholy shrineWhose entablatures intertwineThe mask — the viol — and the vine,

There open temples — open gravesAre on a level with the waves —But not the riches there that lieIn each idol's diamond eye,

Not the gayly-jewell'd deadTempt the waters from their bed:For no ripples curl, alas!Along that wilderness of glass —No swellings hint that winds may beUpon a far-off happier sea:So blend the turrets and shadows thereThat all seem pendulous in air,While from the high towers of the townDeath looks gigantically down.But lo! a stir is in the air!The wave! there is a ripple there!As if the towers had thrown aside,In slightly sinking, the dull tide —As if the turret-tops had givenA 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 thronesShall do it reverence,And Death to some more happy climeShall give his undivided time.

Note: The earliest form of this poem is found in the first thirty-nine lines of "Al Aaraaf," Part II, with note "O, the Wave."

TO ONE IN PARADISE

Southern Literary Messenger,Broadway Journal,Burton's Gentleman's Magazine,Philadelphia Saturday Museum,Godey's Lady's Book,

Text, J. Lorimer Graham copy 1845.
Variations from the text: —

• I.
  • 1. That all: all that, all others.
  • 5. With fairy fruits and: round with wild. Go. around about with. S. L. M.; B. G. M.;1840.

• ...
  • 6. All the flowers: the flowers — they all. S. L. M.; B. G. M.; 1840.
• II.
  • 1. 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. "On! 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.
  • 1. Days: hours. Go.; S. L. M.; B. G. M.;1840. And: now. B. J.
  • 3. Grey: dark, all others.
  • 5-6.

    In the maze of flashing dancesBy the slow Italian streams. Go.

  • 6. Eternal: Italian. Go.; S. L. M.; 1840; B. J. What: far. Go.
    Insert after: —

    Alas! for that accursed timeThey bore thee o'er the billow,From Love to titled age and crimeAnd an unholy pillow—From me, and from our misty climeWhere weeps the silver willow.

    S. L. M.; 1840; Go. except: —
  • 3. Love: me.
  • 5. me: Love.

The Literary World of February 5, 1853, reprinted from the London Spectator, January 1, 1853, a manuscript version of this poem. The correspondent 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 Southern 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 seaTo sands on the sea-shoreA voice is whispering unto me"The day is past," and nevermore.

• IV.
  • 1. And all mine hours.
  • 2. Nightly: nights are.

• ...
  • 3. Are: of.
  • 5-6.

    In the maze of flashing dancesBy the slow Italian streams.

EULALIE — A SONG

American Whig Review Broadway Journal,

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

Southern Literary Messenger,Burton' s Gentleman' s Magazine,Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845.
Variations from the text:—

• 1. 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 originally written in his wife's album. Her name was Virginia Eliza Clemm.

TO F—

Broadway Journal,Southern Literary Messenger,Graham's Magazine,Philadelphia Saturday Museum,

Text, 1845.
Variations from the text:—

• I.
  • 1. Mary amid the cares — the woes. S. L. M.
    For 'mid the earnest cares and woes. G. M,; S. M.

• ...
  • 2. That crowd: crowding. S. L. M.
  • 3. Drear: sad. S. L. M.; G. M.; S. M.
  • 7. Bland: sweet. S. L. M.
• II.
  • 1. 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,Philadelphia Saturday Museum,Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845.
Variations of B. G. M. from the text: —

• 2. Which thus is: life aptly.
• 3. A: The.
• 9. No more: italics.
• 12. Untimely lot: no parenthesis.
• 13. Shadow: italics.
• 14. That: who; lone: dim.

Notes: There are several early references to "Silence" in "Al Aaraaf." 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 thingsFlap shadowy sounds from visionary wings."

Poe'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 "P," 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 Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, for April, 1840, while Poe was still the editor.

Hood's lines on "Silence," most assuredly printed by Poe in the September, 1839, Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, follow Hood's text, except in the eighth line, which has characteristic Poe 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 afterwards. The fact, however, that he remained quiet seven months and then wrote his own lines would indicate that he hopcd 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 Magazine 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,Philadelphia Saturday Museum, Broadway Journal,Richmond Enquirer,

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.
  • 5. while: And, all others, except J. L. G., 1845 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 corrections.

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 follows the early texts with slight punctuation changes.

In Poe's review of Spencer Wallace Cone's poems in Burton's Gentleman'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: —

"'Spread o'er his rigid formThe banner of his pride,And let him meet the conqueror wormWith his good sword by his side.'"

THE HAUNTED PALACE

Baltimore Museum,Burton's Gentleman's Magazine,Philadelphia Saturday Museum,Graham's Magazine,Richmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• I. 4. radiant: snow white. B. M.; 1840; B. G. M.
• III.
  • 1. all wanderers. B. M.
  • 8. ruler: sovereign. B. M.; B. G. M.
• IV. 5. sweet: sole. B. G. M.
• VI.
  • 2. encrimson'd: red litten, all others;
  • 5. 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. Lorimer Graham edition of 1845, with Poe's corrections. The Griswold collection 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.

SCENES FROM "POLITIAN"

AN UNPUBLISHED DRAMA

Southern Literary Messenger,

Text, 1845.
Variations of Southern Literary Messenger from the text:—

• II.
  • 1. Rome. 1845.
  • 114. this sacred: A vow — a.
• III.
  • 1. Baldazzar: Baldazzar his friend.
  • 7. surely: I live.
  • 69. eloquent: voice — that.
  • 70. surely I: I surely.
  • 76. it: that lattice.
  • 104. Believe me: Baldazzar! Oh!
• IV.
  • 5. 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 50, insert:—

    If that we meet at all, it were as wellThat I should meet him in the Vatican —In the Vatican —within the holy wallsOf 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!

  • 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

Journal, March 29, 1845. 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 "Politian" which Poe 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! for shame,To save thee from the blameOf 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 strongAs for to leave me thus?Say nay! say nay!

"And wilt thou leave me thus,That hath given thee my heartNever for to departNeither for pain nor smart;And wilt thou leave me thus?Say nay! say nay!

"And wilt thou leave me thus,And have no more pityOf 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 library of J. Pierpont Morgan, Esq., of New York. It was once in the possession of Mrs. Lewis. The MS. consists of twenty folio pages, containing nearly

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 tragedyScene — 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 interlineations 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 Messengertext — the variations having been made in proof. The manuscript was probably written about 1831. A list of the dramatis personæ 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 apartment strewn with the débris of a protracted revel, with two of the Duke's servants, Benito and Ugo, the latter intoxicated, who are joined by Rupert a third servant. They discuss their master's son, Count Castiglione, who was —

"Not long agoA 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 wifeAnd his own father's ward. I have noticed wellThat we may date his ruin — so I call it —His low debaucheries — his gaming habits —And all his numerous vices from the timeOf that most base seduction and abandonment."

Benito: —

"The sin sits heavily on his soulAnd goads him to these courses."

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 monster, 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 weatherLest they fly."

To which Castiglione replies: —

"San Ozzo! you do her wrong — unmanly wrong!Never in woman's breast enthronéd satA purer heart! If ever woman fellWith 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? 0h, that I were notCastiglione, but some peasant hind;The humble tiller of some humble fieldThat 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 thing!

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 with minor alterations is what is now the first published. The next scene opens with Di Broglio and his son in conversation about Politian. Castiglione "always thought the Earl a gloomy man, but instead I have found him full of such humor — such wit — such vim — such flashes of merriment."

They are disturbed by the entrance of Politian and Baldazzar. Castiglione attempts to introduce them to his father, but Politian suddenly retires 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 published. The next, unpublished, shows preparations for the wedding of Alessandra and Castiglione, and the bad treatment of Ugo by Jacinta. This is followed by scene 5 as published. A long hiatus occurs in the MS., where scene 5 now ends with Castiglione. The whole of the first scene, 4th act, in which it is learned that Politian again met Castiglione and

"In the public streetsCalled him a coward!"

is missing, as also the first thirty-seven lines of the succeeding scene between 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 theseHave 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

Sartain's Union Magazine,Richmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Examininer.

Variations fromSartain'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! 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 swellsFrom the silver tinkling cellsOf 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 floatsFrom their throats —From their deep-toned throats!How I shudder at the notesFrom the melancholy throatsOf the bells, bells, bells!Of the bells!

"About six months after this we received the poem enlarged and altered nearly to its present size and form; and about three months since, the

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 Sartain'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. Ingrain 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 finished "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' could see it. 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, 1849, and it was his intention to send it to the American Whig Review. F. W. Thomas states that he had a manuscript 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 London 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

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 departed from their souls."

For this "They are ghouls" was substituted. The Stedman and Woodberry 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 "Marginalia Book" used by the poet while engaged on the Southern Literary Messenger. In a written statement made to me by John W. Fergusson, an apprentice, employed on the Southern Literary Messenger, and who carried proof sheets to Poe's home and helped celebrate his marriage in Richmond, 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 VARIETIES, followed by the quotation: —

"Trahit quod cunque potest, atque addit acervo."

It reads:

"Bells. — Bells were first brought into use by St. Paulinus, 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 toc-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 inspiration 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

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 Review, of April, 1845, in his poem of "The Valley of Unrest," which he afterwards suppressed: —

"They wave; they weep; and the tears as they wellFrom 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 Union 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 remembers 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 :—

"The bells! — ah, the bells!The little silver bells!How fairy-like a melody there floatsFrom their throats —From their merry little throats—From the silver, tinkling throatsOf the bells, bells, bells —Of the bells !

"The bells! — ah, the bells!The heavy iron bells.How horrible a monody there floatsFrom their throats —From their deep-toned throats —From their melancholy throats!How I shudder at the notesOf 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 declared, 'I so dislike the noise of bells to-night, I cannot write, I have no subject — 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 sportiveness, '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.'"

TO M. L. S —

Home Journal,

Text, Home Journal.
Variations in MS. from text: —

• 2. Thine: thy.
• 9. Lying: Laying then.
• 14. Resembles: approaches.

Notes: The poem was introduced in the Home 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 feeling of gratitude."

The poem was sent to Mrs. Marie Louise Shew. The manuscript copy dated February 14, 1847, is still in the possession of her daughter, Mrs. William Wiley, and was used in making comparisons of the text.

TO — — —

Columbian Magazine,

Text, Columbian Magazine.
Notes: The tenth line of this poem is spoken by Lalage in "Politian," 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 MARIE LOUISE

Two gentle sounds made only to he murmuredBy angels dreaming in the moon-lit "dewThat hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill"Have stirred from out the abysses of my heartUnthought-like thoughts — scarcely the shades of thought —Bewildering fantasies — far richer visionsThan 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 nowAll pride — all thought of power — all hopes of fame —

All wish for Heaven — is merged forevermoreBeneath the palpitating tide of passionHeaped 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 not feeling —This standing motionless upon the goldenThreshold 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 awayTo where the prospect terminates — thee only.

SONNET (AN ENIGMA)

Union Magazine,

Text, Union Magazine.
Variation of Griswold from the text: —

• 10. Petrarchmanities : tuckermanities.

Note: The first letter of the first line, the second letter of the second line, 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 — — —

Union Magazine,

Text, Union Magazine.
Variations o[ Griswold 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

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 know 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,Sartain's Union Magazine,

Text, Flag of Our Union.
Variations of Sartain's Union Magazine from the text: —

• 1. These lines are: this rhyme is.
• 4. This: the.
• 5. This rhyme, which holds: the lines! — they hold.
• 8. Letters themselves: Syllables!
• 12. Understand: comprehend.
• 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, liesUpon this page, enwrapped from every reader.Search narrowly these words, which hold a treasureDivine — a talisman — an amuletThat must be worn at heart. Search well the measure—The words — the letters themselves. Do not forget

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 lines. Another MS. copy in the Griswold collection dated Valentine's Eve, 1848, shows the following variations from the above: —
A Valentine: By Edgar A. Poe. To: — — —

• 1. these lines: this rhyme.
• 2. Bright, stars, Leda : Brightly, twins Lœda.
• 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 though you do the best you can do.

The following foreword appeared in the Flag of Our Union: —

"At a Valentine Soirée, 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 'T0 HER WHOSE NAME IS WRITTEN WITHIN.' As no lady present could so read the riddle as

to find her name written 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 10 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 of Our Union,Home Journal,Richmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• II. 1. 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. O. U.
  • 4. That: the. MS.; Horrible throbbing, F. O. U.
  • 5. Ah: Oh. MS.; O, F. O. U.
• VI.
  • 1. Oh: Ah. MS.; F. O. U.
  • 6. Passion: Glory. MS.; F. O. U,
• VII. 3. Spring: Fountain. F. O. U,
• VIII.
  • 1. But: And. H. J.; Gr.; P. P. A.
    And ah! let it never be. MS.; F. O. U.
  • 2. Be: out. MS.; and F. O. U.
  • 7. Sleep: italics out except Gr.; P. P. A.
• IX. 1. My tantalized spirit here. MS.
• X.
  • 2. It : I. MS.
  • 3. A holier odor about me. MS.
  • 4. Of pansy. MS.
  • 6. Pansies: pansy. MS.

• XI.
  • 1. It: I, MS.
  • 3. Truth: love. MS.; F. O. U.
• XII.
  • 5. Deeply to sleep from the. MS.; F. O. U.
  • 6. From the: out. MS.; F. O. U.
• XIV. 3-7. Omit parenthesis. F. O. U.
• XV.
  • 3. In:of. All others except Gr.; Stars of the Heaven —for it. MS.
  • 5. Light: though. MS.; fire. F. O. 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,Richmond Examiner,Southern Literary Messenger,Leaflets of Memory,

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. O. U.; Gr.
• 3. Amid: among. F. O. U.; Gr.
• 5. Sweet: dear. Gr.
• 7. Filling: And fill; God: Death, F. O. 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 knew. 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

to have been written in his better moments, when his spirit returning from 'the misty mid-regions of Weir' and the companions of Ghouls, betrayed that touch of nature which makes the whole world kin."

ELDORADO

Flag of Our Union,

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,Richmond Examiner,Southern Literary Messenger,Sartain's Union Magazine,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• II.
  • 1. She...I: I...She. T. Gr. MS. and 1850. No italics in S. U. M.
  • 5. 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. 5. 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., feel.
  • 6. My life: omit italics all others.
  • 7. Her: the. Gr. 1850.
  • 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 had another poem of Mr. Poe's in hand, which we would publish in January. 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

explained. It appeared first, we believe, in the New York Tribune. If we are not misinformed, two other Magazines are in the same predicament 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 concluded to give it as already announced."

Notes: Poe's manuscript from which Sartain'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 "$5 paid." "This was the price paid by Sartain's Union Magazine when it was accepted and published in 1850 (J. S. Hart, Editor)." These comments throw some obscurity upon the previous remarks of the editor of Sartain's Union Magazine when the poem was published in January, 1850, wherein it is intimated that they bought and paid Poe himself for the poem. This was an impossibility in 1850 as Poe died in 1849. The statement in Sartain's Union Magazine has often been used to reflect on Poe's character, 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 Sartain'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 $50, before same appeared in his book. Sartain's Union Magazine acknowledged holding the poem nearly four months, and it now seems doubtful if it was ever accepted or paid for.

The original manuscript also shows that the editor of Sartain's Union Magazine did not use Poe's punctuation, italics, or capital letters. Furthermore, 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 handed 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 Sartain's Union Magazine, 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 had at that time a manuscript of the poem in Poe's

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 Thorne 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.

ULALUME — A BALLAD

American Whig ReviewHome Journal,Literary WorldRichmond Examiner,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text follow: —

• II. 4. Days: the days. L. W.
• VI.
  • 4. Ah: Oh. All others except MS.
  • 5. 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; In the. A. W. R.
• X. 7. Have; Had. All others except MS.

Notes: Griswold, 1850, omits "We" in III. 9 and the entire tenth stanza with other slight variations from the text. In his "Poets and Poetry of America," text of 1855 he used the tenth stanza, and follows the American Whig Review with the exception of VII. 10, where "Have" is used for "Had" — one of Poe's last corrections.

Poe wrote to the Editor of the Home 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 H.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."

The poem appeared January 1, 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 niceness of language. It is a poem which we find in the American Review, 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 'Ulalume,' 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 mistaken 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 praising 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 'Ulalume,' 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 I wrote it, and it is just possible that he knows more about the matter than 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 ElysianFlooding his figure. Kneeling on one knee,He loosed his sandals, leaAnd lake and woodland glittering on his vision —

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, upon the whole, are little more than our conversations done into verse."

Mrs. S. H. Whitman in a letter to the New York Tribune dated Providence, September 29, 1875, in answer to F. G. Fairfield's "A Mad Man of Letters," makes the following reference to "Ulalume": —

"The gist 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 LionAs the star dials hinted of morn.'The forlorn heart might have been seen hailing it 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, hope 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 publications. All Poe's publications of the poem show the concluding 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

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 explanatory 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 Magazine, 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 melodious 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 presume it is regarded as genuine poetry in the 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 her dates mixed up.

TAMERLANE

1827, 1829, 1831, 1845.

Text, 1845.
Variations of 1829 and 1831 from the text: —

• 3. Deem; think. 1831.
• 26. Insert after: —

  Despair, the fabled vampire bat,Hath long upon my bosom sat,

• ...

  And I would rave, but that he flingsA calm from his unearthly wings.

  1831.
• 30. Fierce: Omit. 1831.
• 40. Have: Hath. 1831.
• 57. Was giant-like — so thou my mind. 1829; 1831.
• 73. This iron heart; that as infinite. 1831.
• 74 My soul: so was the weakness in it. 1831.
  Insert after: —

  For in those days it was my lotTo haunt of the wide world a spotThe which I could not love the less.So lovely was the lonelinessOf a wild lake with black rock bound,And the sultan-like pines that tower'd around!But when the night had thrown her pallUpon that spot as upon all,And the black wind murmur'd by,In a dirge of melody;My infant spirit would awakeTo the terror of that lone lake.

  Yet that terror was not fright —But a tremulous delight —A feeling not the jewell'd mineCould ever bribe me to define,Nor love, Ada! tho' it were thine.How could I from that water bringSolace to my imagining?My solitary soul — how makeAn Eden of that dim lake?

  But then a gentler, calmer spell,Like moonlight on my spirit fell,And O! I have no words to tell.

  1831.
• 77. Nor would I: I will not. 1831.
• 81. Thus I: I well. 1831.
• 82. Some page: Pages. 1831 .

• 86. Oh, she was: Was she not. 1831.
• l06. Throw me on her throbbing: lean upon her gentle. 1831.
• 110. Her: hers. 1831.
• 112-115. 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 for. 1831.
• 164. His: its. 1831.
• 166-177.

  Say, holy father, breathes there yetA rebel or a Bajazet?How now! why tremble, man of gloom,As if my words were the Simoom!Why do the people bow the knee,To the young Tamerlane — to me!

  1831.
• 202. Splendor: beauty. 1831.
• 207-212. Omit.
  For 213-221 substitute: —

  I reach'd my home — what home? aboveMy home — my hope — my early love,Lonely, like me, the desert rose,Bow'd down with its own glory grows.

  1831.
• 235. Unpolluted: undefiled. 1831.
• 243. Insert after:—

  If my peace hath flown awayIn a night — or in a day —In a vision — or in none —Is it, therefore, the less gone?I was standing 'mid the roarOf a wind-beaten shore,And I held within my handSome particles of sand —How bright! And yet to creepThro' my fingers to the deep!

• My early hopes? no — theyWent gloriously away,Like lightning from the sky—Why in the battle did not I?

  
  The first 1827 version follows:—

  TAMERLANE

  I

  I have sent for thee, holy friar; NOTE 1 1.12But 't was not with the drunken hope,Which is but agony of desireTo shun the fate, with which to copeIs 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 powerOf earth may shrive me of the sinUnearthly 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 (O God! I can)It falls from an eternal shrine.

  II

  The gay wall of this gaudy towerGrows dim around me — death is near.I had not thought, until this hourWhen passing from the earth, that earOf any, were it not the shadeOf one whom in life I madeAll mystery but a simple name,Might know the secret of a spiritBow'd down in sorrow, and in shame. —Shame, said'st thou?

  Ay, I did inheritThat hated portion, with the fame,

• ...

  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.

  III

  I have not always been as now — The fever'd diadem on my brow I claim'd and won usurpingly — Ay — the same heritage hath given Rome to the Cæsar — 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 NOTE 2 1.13 Nightly 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 closing eye The pageantry of monarchy! And the deep thunder's echoing roar Came hurriedly upon me, telling Of war, and tumult, where my voice, My own voice, silly child! was swelling (O how would my wild heart rejoice And leap within me at the cry) The battle-cry of victory!

  . . . . . . . .

• ...

  IV

  The rain came down upon my head But barely shelter'd — and the wind Pass'd quickly o'er me — but 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. —

  V

  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 Burn'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,

• ...

  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 — 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?

  VII

  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 —

• ...

  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! 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; NOTE 3 1.14 For passionate love is still divine: I loved her as an angel might With ray of the all living light Which blazes upon Edis' shrine. NOTE 4 1.15 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

• ...

  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,

• ...

  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 cottager, 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 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 he 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," born NOTE 5 1.16 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 —

• ...

  XII

  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 glided 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 NOTE 6 1.17 The love he plighted then — again, And raise his infancy's delight, The bride and queen of Tamerlane. —

  XIII

  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. —

• ...

  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! O God! when the thoughts that may not pass 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, NOTE 7 1.18 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?

• ...

  And who her sovereign? Timur, he NOTE 8 1.19 Whom the astonish'd earth hath seen, With victory, on victory, Redoubling age! and more, I ween, The Zinghis' yet re-echoing fame. NOTE 9 1.20 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 gaze upon The glory of the summer sun, There comes, when that sun will from him part, A sullen hopelessness of heart.

• ...

  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) NOTE 10 1.21 as one Who in a dream of night would fly, But cannot, from a danger nigh. What though the moon — the silvery moon — Shine on his path, in her high noon; Her 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 live 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, NOTE 11 1.22 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.

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.
  • 2. Such as I taught her from the time.
  • 7-10. There were no holier thoughts than thine.
  • 11. Her: 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. Its: The.
• X.
  • 6. Own fair: magic.
  • 8-10.

    Encircling with a glittering boundOf diamond sunshine and sweet sprayTwo mossy huts of the Taglay.

• XI.
  • 12-13.

    The undying hope which now opprestA 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: nobly.
  • 8. Earth hath seen: people saw.

• ...
  • 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

* 1.23

SONNET TO SCIENCE

Philadelphia Casket,Southern Literary Messenger,Graham's MagazineBroadway Journal,

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.
• 5. Should: shall. P. C.
• 8. Soared: soar. S. L. M.
  Insert after l0: —

  Hast thou not spoilt a story in each star?Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood?

• ...

  The elfin from the grass? — the dainty fayThe witch, the sprite, the goblin — where are they?

  Anon. G. M.
• 11. A: for. P. C.
• 12. The gentle Naiad from her fountain flood. 1829; S. L. M. Her. the. P. C.
• 13. Grass: wood. P. C.
• 14. Tamarind tree: shrubbery. 1831; S. L.M.; P. C. Summer: summers. P. C.

AL AARAAF

Philadelphia Saturday Museum,

Text, 1845.
Variations from the text: —

• 1-15.

  Mysterious star!Thou wert my dreamAll a long summer night —Be now my theme!By this clear stream,Of thee will I write;Meantime from afarBathe me in light!

  Thy world has not the dross of ours,Yet all the beauty — all the flowersThat list our love, or deck our bowersIn dreamy gardens, where do lieDreamy maidens all the day,While the silver winds of CircassyOn violet couches faint away.Little — oh! little dwells in theeLike unto what on earth we see:Beauty's eye is here the bluestIn the falsest and untruest —On the sweetest air doth floatThe most sad and solemn note —

• ...

  If with thee be broken hearts,Joy so peacefully departs,That its echo still doth dwellLike the murmur in the shell.Thou! thy truest type of griefIs the gently falling leaf —Thou! thy framing is so holySorrow is not melancholy.

  1831.
• 11. Oh: With. 1831. Ah. 1829 MS.
• 19. An oasis: a garden-spot. 1829; 1831.
• 43. rear. 1831.
• 88. Which: That. S. M.
• 95. Red: Omit 1831.
• 127. Merest: verest. S. M.
• 128. All: Here. 1829; 1831; S. M.
• Part II. 33. Peered: ventured. 1829.
• 53. Cheeks were: cheeks was. S. M.
• 56. That: this. S. M.
• 58. 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 II. lines 20-59.

Notes: In Graham's Magazine, February, 1845, which was revised by Poe, referring to the lines of "Ligeia" in "Al 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, beginning: "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

the verb Arafa, 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 "Al Aaraaf" 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 her course to be" he changed "Al Aaraaf" to read Tophet, and when he quoted the 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 do not appear elsewhere. In Part II, 38th line, "the" is changed to thy, and in the next line following, "Of beautiful Gomorroh!" reads Too beautiful Gomorroh.

ROMANCE

Philadelphia Saturday Museum,Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845.
Variations of 1829 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: —

  INTRODUCTION

  Romance, who loves to nod and sing,With drowsy head and folded wing,Among the green leaves as they shakeFar down within some shadowy lake,To me a painted paroquetHath been — a most familiar bird —Taught me my alphabet to say, —To lisp my very earliest wordWhile in the wild-wood I did lieA child — with a most knowing eyeSucceeding years, too wild for song,Then roll'd like tropic storms along,

• ...

  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 an hour 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 trembled with 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.

• ...

  My draught of passion hath been deep — I revell'd, and I 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 1829 follow: —

• 11-34. Omit.
• 35. O, 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...strings: Did it not tremble...strings.
• 46-66. Omit.

Notes: The manuscript changes made by Poe in this poem exist in the presentation copy of "Al 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 Journaland in printing the 1845 edition of his poems. The changes in this copy indicate that the third draft was made into the Broadway Journal.

SONG

"I SAW THEE ON THY BRIDAL DAY"

Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845.
Variations from the text: —

• I. 1. Thy: the. 1827.
• II.
  • 2. Of young passions free. 1827.
  • 3. Aching: chained. 1827; fetter'd. 1829.
  • 4. Could: might. 1827,
• III. 1. I perhaps: I ween. 1827.

Notes: The manuscript of this poem in Poe's hand, written about 1829, is in the library of a Chicago 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 throughout 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 following variations from the text: —

• 5. Cold: dull.
• 6. Must: shall.

• 7. Still upon the lovely: ever, on the chilly.
• 14. Dreams of living : dreamy fields of.
• 15. Loveliness have left my very: left unheedingly my.
• 19. Only. In italics.
• 27. After tho' insert but I have been. No italics.

SPIRITS OF THE DEAD

Burton's Gentleman's Magazine,

Text, Burton' s Gentleman' s Magazine.
Variations from the text: —

• II. 1. 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 OF THE DEAD

  . . . . . . . .

  Thy soul shall find itself alone —Alone of all on earth — unknownThe cause — but none are near to pryInto thy hour of secrecy.Be silent in that solitude,Which is not loneliness — for thenThe spirits of the dead, who stoodIn life before thee, are againIn death around thee, and their willShall then o'ershadow thee — be still:For the night, tho' clear, shall frown;And the stars shall look not downFrom their thrones, in the dark heaven,With light like Hope to mortals given,But their red orbs, without beam,To thy withering heart shall seem

• ...

  As a burning, and a feverWhich would cling to thee forever.But 't will leave thee, as each starIn the morning light afarWill fly thee — and vanish:— But its thought thou canst not banish.The breath of God will be still;And the mist upon the hillBy that summer breeze unbrokenShall charm thee — as a token,And a symbol which shall beSecrecy in thee.

EVENING STAR

1827

Text, 1827.

TO —— (A DREAM WITHIN A DREAM)

Imitation,Flag of Our Union,Richmond ExaminerGriswold,

Text, Richmond Examiner.
Variations from the text: —

• 1. Thy: thee all others.
• 4. To: Who all others.
• The earliest version (1827) is as follows:

  IMITATION

  A dark unfathom'd tideOf interminable pride —A mystery, and a dream,Should my early life seem;I say that dream was fraughtWith a wild, and waking thoughtOf beings that have been,Which my spirit hath not seen,

• ...

  Had I let them pass me by, With a dreaming eye!

  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 uponThe King Napoleon —I look not up afarTo my destiny in a star:

  In parting from you nowThus much I will avow —There are beings, and have beenWhom my spirit had not seenHad I let them pass me byWith a dreaming eye —If my peace hath fled awayIn a night — or in a day —In a vision— or in none —Is it therefore the less gone?

  I am standing 'mid the roarOf a weather-beaten shore,

• ...

  And I hold within my hand Some particles of sand — How few! and how they creep Thro' my fingers to the deep! My early hopes? no — they Went gloriously away, Like lightning from the sky At once — and so will I.

  So young! Ah! 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 Zeus! — I! Endure! — no — no —defy.

Notes: The lines 13-27 appear in "Tamerlane," 1831, revised. In line 18 of "Imitation," the word "sigh" is printed "sight." It is conjectured that Poe's last revision, "To —," was addressed to "Annie," Mrs. Richmond. In 1849, Poe 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 follows: —

• 10. All. No italics.
• 19. O: Oh.
• 21. O: Oh.
• 23. We: I.

"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 ]une, 1823.

A DREAM

Broadway Journal,

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. 1 Ah! And. 1827; 1829.
• IV.
  • 1. Storm and: misty. 1827.
  • 2. Trembled from: dimly shone. 1827.

"THE HAPPIEST DAY — THE HAPPIEST HOUR"

1827

Text, 1827.

THE LAKE. TO ——

Missionary Memorial,

Text, Missionary Memorial.
The 1827 version is as follows: —

THE LAKE

In youth's spring it was my lotTo haunt of the wide earth a spotThe which I could not love the less;So lovely was the lonelinessOf a wild lake, with black rock bound,And the tall pines that tower'd around.But when the night had thrown her pallUpon that spot — as upon all,And the wind would pass me byIn its stilly melody,My infant spirit would awakeTo 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 waveAnd in its gulf a fitting graveFor him who thence could solace bringTo his dark imagining;Whose wildering thought could even makeAn Eden of that dim lake.

Variations from the text: —

• 1. In youth's spring: In spring of youth. 1845.
• 9. ghastly wind went by: black wind murmured by. 1829.
  Ghastly: mystic. 1845.
• 10. In a dirge-like: In a stilly. MS.; In a dirge of. 1829. In a dirge-like: murmuring in. 1845.
• 11. Then — ah then: my boyish. MS.
• 12. That: the. All others.
• 15-17.

  A feeling not the jewell'd mineShould ever bribe me to define —Nor Love — although the Love be mine.

  1829.
• 19. Depth: gulph 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 city.

TO —
"THE BOWERS, WHEREAT, IN DREAMS, I SEE"

Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845
Variations of 1829 from the text: —

• III.
  • 3. The. Omit.
  • 4. Baubles: trifles.

TO THE RIVER —

Burton's Gentleman's Magazine,Philadelphia Saturday Museum,Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845
Variations from the text: —

• I. 2. Crystal wandering: labyrinth-like. 1829. MS.; B. G. M.
• II.
  • 2. In parenthesis. MS.; B. G. M.
  • 4. Her worshipper: Thy pretty self, MS.
  • 5. His: my. 1829; MS.; B. G. M.; B. J,
  • 6. Deeply: lightly. MS.
  • 7. His: 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:—

TO M——

O! I care not that my earthly lotHath little of Earth in it —That years of love have been forgotIn the fever of a minute —

I heed not that the desolateAre happier sweet, than I —But that you meddle with my fateWho am a passer by.

It is not that my founts of blissAre gushing — strange! with tears —Or that the thrill of a single kissHath palsied many years —

'T is not that the flowers of twenty springsWhich have wither'd as they roseLie dead on my heart-stringsWith the weight of an age of snows.

Now that the grass — O! may it thrive!On my grave is growing or grown —But that, while I am dead yet aliveI 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.

FAIRY-LAND

Burton's Gentleman's Magazine,Broadway Journal,

Text, 1845
Variations of 1829 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 fellJust now so fairy-like and well.Now thou art dress'd for paradise!I am star-stricken with thine eyes!My soul is lolling on thy sighs!Thy hair is lifted by the moonLike 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 hungUp like a dog-star in this bower —To-day (the wind blew, and) it swungSo impudently in my face,So like a thing alive you know,I tore it from its pride of placeAnd shook it into pieces — soBe all ingratitude requited.The winds ran off with it delighted,And, thro' the opening left, as soonAs she threw off her cloak, yon moonHas sent a ray down with a tune.

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 like a bell! In my own country all the way We can discover a moon ray Which 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 — see! 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! Down — still down — and down — Now deep shall be — O deep! The passion of our sleep! For that wide circumference In easy drapery falls Drowsily over halls —

Over ruin'd walls —(Over waterfalls!)O'er the strange woods — o'er the sea —Alas! over the sea!

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 171.

TO HELEN

Southern Literary Messenger,Graham's Magazine,Philadelphia Saturday Museum,

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.
  • 1. Yon brilliant: that little. 1831; S. L. M.; that shadowy. G. M.
  • 3. Agate lamp: folded scroll. 1831; S. L. M.; G. M.
  • 4. Ah!: A. 1831.

FROM AN ALBUM (ALONE)

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

states that the headline "Alone," and the date "Baltimore, March 17, 1829," were not in Poe's hand; also that the account in Scribner's, that the poem was written shortly before Poe left West Point, 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 characteristics 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

O, Strike the Harp

"O! strike the harp, while yet there liesIn 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 MirthToo welcome to my heart before;For now those airs that breathe of earthCan charm my pensive soul no more.

"Yes, I have loved the world too wellAnd roved in Pleasure's train too long;And I have felt her sweetest spellIn 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 strainsAnd she shall soar at once to heaven."

This is unsigned, and backed "Anonymous composition for the Messenger." 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 Norfolk, Virginia, by steamer. The poetry evidently made some impression on Poe'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 554 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 William Maxwell, well known as the first Secretary of the Virginia Historical 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 him meet the Conqueror worm."

The idea in the verses "Spiritual Song" is also met with in his poem "The Haunted Palace," fourth verse, fifth line: —

"A troop of echoes, whose sweet dutyWas to singIn voices of surpassing beautyThe 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 1834 and approximates later years. It is an acrostic, spelling "Elizabeth

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 manuscript.

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 manuscript was found in Poe's desk used by him at the Southern Literary Messenger office, Richmond, Virginia. The word "winds" in line fourteen was changed to "breezes" in the manuscript by Poe.

In note 5 to "Tamerlane" Poe wrote: —

"— Who hardly will conceiveThat any should become 'great,' bornIn 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 subject, 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" manuscript 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 Physician," as told to him by Mrs. Shew.

With Poe'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."

TO SARAH

Southern Literary Messenger.

These lines appeared in the Southern Literary Messenger for August, 1835, 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 acknowledged 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 —"

GRATITUDE. TO ——

The Symposia.

This poem is signed E. A. P., and was published in "The Symposia," volume i, no. 1, 8vo, pp. 4. Providence, Rhode Island, January 27, 1848. It was sold at auction in Boston in the spring of 1896. The poem is

supposed to have been addressed to Mrs. S. H. Whitman, and was for the benefit of some church or fair in that city.

AN ENIGMA

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 gentilhomme, who talked prose all his life without 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 CAROL

Broadway Journal.

This is printed in the Editorial Miscellany of the Broadway Journal of April 26, 1845. In Poe's notices to Correspondents, March 29, in the Journal appears "A thousand thanks to Kate Carol." The issue of April 5 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.

Notes

• 1 1.1

  Error for SOUTHEY'S PERSIS.
• 1 1.2

  Printed, with the following 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 and much originality — but of course we shall not be called upon to endorse all the writer's opinions. — ED."
• * 1.3

  Spoudaiotaton kai philosophikotaton genos. S. L. M. text.
• * 1.4

  Lines in parenthesis erased from S. L. M. text.
• † 1.5

  Glacier in S. L. M. text.
• * 1.6

  No italics in S. L. M. text.
• 1 1.7

  S. L. M. text.
• 2 1.8

  Erased from S. L. M. text.
• 3 1.9

  Erased from S. L. M. text.
• 4 1.10

  "his" in S. L. M. text.
• 1 1.11

  And the angel Israfel, who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures.
• NOTE 1 1.12

  I have sent for thee, holy friar.

  Of the history of 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 1.13

  The mists of the Taglay have shed, &c.

  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 1.14

  No purer thoughtDwelt 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 gentleman of the nineteenth; but of the Tartar mythology we have little information.
• NOTE 4 1.15

  Which blazes upon Edis' shrine.

  A deity presiding over virtuous love, upon whose imaginary altar a sacred fire was continually blazing.
• NOTE 5 1.16

  — Who hardly will conceiveThat any should become "great," bornIn 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 1.17

  Her own Alexis, who should plight, &c.

  That Tamerlane acquired his renown under a feigned name is not entirely a fiction.
• NOTE 7 1.18

  Look round thee now on Samarcand.

  I believe it was after the battle of Angora that Tamerlane made Samarcand his residence. It became for a time the seat of learning and the arts.
• NOTE 8 1.19

  And who her sovereign? Timur, &c.

  He was called Timur Bek as well as Tamerlane.
• NOTE 9 1.20

  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 his command.
• NOTE 10 1.21

  The sound of the coming darkness (knownTo those whose spirits hearken).

  I have often fancied that I could distinctly hear the sound of the darkness, 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 11 1.22

  Let life then, as the day-flower, 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 forgiven for carrying it thither.
• * 1.23

  The notes in this section have been moved "inline" by the HTI by moving the contents of each to its point of reference in the text.