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The Best of Edgar Allan Poe. Volume 5

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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

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