The Best of Edgar Allan Poe. Volume 5
.pdf
THE BEST OF EDGAR ALLAN POE
If I could dwell Where Israfel
Hath dwelt, and he where I,
He might not sing so wildly well A mortal melody,
While a bolder note than this might swell From my lyre within the sky.
1836.
TO – –
1
The bowers whereat, in dreams, I see The wantonest singing birds
Are lips – and all thy melody Of lip-begotten words –
2
Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrin'd Then desolately fall,
O! God! on my funereal mind Like starlight on a pall –
3
Thy heart – thy heart! – I wake and sigh, And sleep to dream till day
Of truth that gold can never buy – Of the trifles that it may.
1829.
332
TO –
I HEED not that my earthly lot Hath-little of Earth in it–
That years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute:–
I mourn not that the desolate Are happier, sweet, than I,
But that you sorrow for my fate Who am a passer-by.
1829.
333
TO THE RIVER ––
FAIR river! in thy bright, clear flow
Of crystal, wandering water,
Thou art an emblem of the glow
Of beauty – the unhidden heart –
The playful maziness of art
In old Alberto's daughter;
But when within thy wave she looks – Which glistens then, and trembles – Why, then, the prettiest of brooks Her worshipper resembles;
For in my heart, as in thy stream, Her image deeply lies –
His heart which trembles at the beam Of her soul-searching eyes.
1829.
334
SONG
I SAW thee on thy bridal day – When a burning blush came o'er thee, Though happiness around thee lay, The world all love before thee:
And in thine eye a kindling light (Whatever it might be)
Was all on Earth my aching sight Of Loveliness could see.
That blush, perhaps, was maiden shame – As such it well may pass –
Though its glow hath raised a fiercer flame In the breast of him, alas!
Who saw thee on that bridal day,
When that deep blush would come o'er thee, Though happiness around thee lay,
The world all love before thee.
1827.
335
SPIRITS OF THE DEAD
1
Thy soul shall find itself alone
'Mid dark thoughts of the grey tomb-stone – Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy:
2
Be silent in that solitude
Which is not loneliness – for then The spirits of the dead who stood In life before thee are again
In death around thee – and their will Shall then overshadow thee: be still.
3
For the night – tho' clear – shall frown – And the stars shall look not down,
From their high thrones in the Heaven, With light like Hope to mortals given – But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
336
THE BEST OF EDGAR ALLAN POE
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever :
4
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish – Now are visions ne'er to vanish –
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more – like dew-drop from the grass:
5
The breeze – the breath of God – is still – And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy – shadowy – yet unbroken, Is a symbol and a token –
How it hangs upon the trees, A mystery of mysteries! –
1827.
A DREAM
In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed – But a waking dreams of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted.
Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past?
That holy dream – that holy dream, While all the world were chiding, Hath cheered me as a lovely beam A lonely spirit guiding.
What though that light, thro' storm and night, So trembled from afarWhat
could there be more purely bright In Truths day-star ?
1827.
338
ROMANCE
ROMANCE, who loves to nod and sing, With drowsy head and folded wing, Among the green leaves as they shake Far down within some shadowy lake, To me a painted paroquet
Hath been – a most familiar bird – Taught me my alphabet to say – To lisp my very earliest word While in the wild wood I did lie,
A child – with a most knowing eye.
Of late, eternal Condor years
So shake the very Heaven on high With tumult as they thunder by, I have no time for idle cares
Through gazing on the unquiet sky. And when an hour with calmer wings Its down upon thy spirit flings – That little time with lyre and rhyme To while away – forbidden things! My heart would feel to be a crime Unless it trembled with the strings.
1829.
339
FAIRY-LAND
DIM vales – and shadowy floods – And cloudy-looking woods, Whose forms we can't discover For the tears that drip all over
Huge moons there wax and wane – Again – again – again –
Every moment of the night – Forever changing places – And they put out the star-light
With the breath from their pale faces. About twelve by the moon-dial
One, more filmy than the rest (A kind which, upon trial, They have found to be the best)
Comes down – still down – and down With its centre on the crown
Of a mountain's eminence, While its wide circumference In easy drapery falls
Over hamlets, over halls, Wherever they may be –
340
