The Complete Poetry - Эдгар Аллан По

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woes are legion

       'Tis a peaceful, soothing region—

       For the spirit that walks in shadow

       'Tis—oh, 'tis an Eldorado!

       But the traveller, travelling through it,

       May not—dare not openly view it;

       Never its mysteries are exposed

       To the weak human eye unclosed;

       So wills its King, who hath forbid

       The uplifting of the fringed lid;

       And thus the sad Soul that here passes

       Beholds it but through darkened glasses.

       By a route obscure and lonely,

       Haunted by ill angels only.

       Where an Eidolon, named Night,

       On a black throne reigns upright,

       I have wandered home but newly

       From this ultimate dim Thule.

      To Zante

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      Fair isle, that from the fairest of all flowers,

       Thy gentlest of all gentle names dost take!

       How many memories of what radiant hours

       At sight of thee and thine at once awake!

       How many scenes of what departed bliss!

       How many thoughts of what entombed hopes!

       How many visions of a maiden that is

       No more—no more upon thy verdant slopes!

       No more! alas, that magical sad sound Transforming all! Thy charms shall please no more— Thy memory no more! Accursed ground Henceforward I hold thy flower-enamelled shore, O hyacinthine isle! O purple Zante! "Isola d'oro! Fior di Levante!"

      Hymn

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      At morn—at noon—at twilight dim—

       Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!

       In joy and wo—in good and ill—

       Mother of God, be with me still!

       When the Hours flew brightly by,

       And not a cloud obscured the sky,

       My soul, lest it should truant be,

       Thy grace did guide to thine and thee

       Now, when storms of Fate o'ercast

       Darkly my Present and my Past,

       Let my future radiant shine

       With sweet hopes of thee and thine!

      Notes

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      Note on Lenore

      "Lenore" was published, very nearly in its existing shape, in The Pioneer for 1843, but under the title of "The Pæan"—now first published in the Poems Of Youth—the germ of it appeared in 1831.

      Note on To One in Paradise

      "To One in Paradise" was included originally in "The Visionary" (a tale now known as "The Assignation"), in July, 1835, and appeared as a separate poem entitled "To Ianthe in Heaven," in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine for July, 1839. The fifth stanza is now added, for the first time, to the piece.

      Note on The Coliseum

      "The Coliseum" appeared in the Baltimore Saturday Visitor (sic) in 1833, and was republished in the Southern Literary Messenger for August 1835, as "A Prize Poem."

      Note on The Haunted Palace

      "The Haunted Palace" originally issued in the Baltimore American Museum for April, 1888, was subsequently embodied in that much admired tale, "The Fall of the House of Usher," and published in it in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine for September, 1839. It reappeared in that as a separate poem in the 1845 edition of Poe's poems.

      Note on The Conqueror Worm

      "The Conqueror Worm," then contained in Poe's favorite tale of "Ligeia," was first published in the American Museum for September, 1838. As a separate poem, it reappeared in Graham's Magazine for January, 1843.

      Note on Silence

      The sonnet, "Silence," was originally published in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine for April, 1840.

      Note on Dreamland

      The first known publication of "Dreamland" was in Graham's Magazine for June, 1844.

      Note on To Zante

      The "Sonnet to Zante" is not discoverable earlier than January, 1837, when it appeared in the Southern Literary Messenger.

      Note on Hymn

      The initial version of the "Catholic Hymn" was contained in the story of "Morella," and published in the Southern Literary Messenger for April, 1885. The lines as they now stand, and with their present title, were first published in the Broadway Journal for August, 1845.

      Scenes from Politian

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      an unpublished drama

       I

      ROME — a Hall in a Palace. ALESSANDRA and CASTIGLIONE.

Alessandra Thou art sad, Castiglione.
Castiglione Sad!—not I. Oh, I'm the happiest, happiest man in Rome! A few days more, thou knowest, my Alessandra, Will make thee mine. Oh, I am very happy!
Alessandra Methinks thou hast a singular way of showing Thy happiness—what ails thee, cousin of mine? Why didst thou sigh so deeply?
Castiglione Did I sigh? I was not conscious of it. It is a fashion, A silly—a most silly fashion I have When I am very happy. Did I sigh? [sighing]
Alessandra Thou didst. Thou art not well. Thou hast indulged Too much of late, and I am vexed to see it. Late hours and wine, Castiglione,—these Will ruin thee! thou art already altered— Thy looks are haggard—nothing so wears away The constitution as late hours and wine.
Castiglione (musing) Nothing, fair cousin, nothing— Not even deep sorrow— Wears it away like evil hours and wine. I will amend.

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