Poets of the South Part 14

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, "Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you"--here I opened wide the door;-- Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word "Lenore?"

This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word "Lenore:"

Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-- Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore: 'Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he; But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-- Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door: Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,-- "Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly sh.o.r.e: Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian sh.o.r.e!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning--little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-- Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.

Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered, Till I scarcely more than muttered,--"Other friends have flown before; On the morrow _he_ will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."

Then the bird said, "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, "Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store, Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore: Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of 'Never--nevermore.'"

But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore, What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore-- Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er _She_ shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.

"Wretch," I cried, "thy G.o.d hath lent thee--by these angels he hath sent thee Respite--respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!

Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! prophet still, if bird or devil!

Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ash.o.r.e, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-- On this home by Horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore: Is there--_is_ there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me, I implore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!

By that heaven that bends above us--by that G.o.d we both adore: Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore: Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting: "Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian sh.o.r.e!

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!

Leave my loneliness unbroken! quit the bust above my door!

Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; [14]

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;[15]

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted--nevermore!

For a general introduction to the selections from Poe, the biographical and critical sketch in Chap. II should be read.

[Footnote 1: This was Mrs. Helen Stannard, the mother of one of Poe's schoolmates in Richmond. Her kind and gracious manner made a deep impression on his boyish heart, and soothed his pa.s.sionate, turbulent nature. In after years this poem was inspired, as the poet tells us, by the memory of "the one idolatrous and purely ideal love" of his restless youth.]

[Footnote 2: The reference seems to be to the ancient Ligurian town of Nicaea, now Nice, in France. The "perfumed sea" would then be the Ligurian sea. But one half suspects that it was the scholarly and musical sound of the word, rather than any aptness of cla.s.sical reference, that led to the use of the word "Nicaean."]

[Footnote 3: This appears to be Poe's indefinite and poetic way of saying that the lady's beauty and grace brought him an uplifting sense of happiness. After seeing her the first time, "He returned home in a dream, with but one thought, one hope in life--to hear again the sweet and gracious words that had made the desolate world so beautiful to him, and filled his lonely heart with the oppression of a new joy."--Ingram's _Edgar Allan Poe_, Vol. I, p. 32.]

[Footnote 4: Psyche was represented as so exquisitely beautiful that mortals did not dare to love, but only to worship her. The poet could pay no higher tribute to "Helen."]

[Footnote 5: This little poem--very beautiful in itself--ill.u.s.trates Poe's characteristics as a poet: it is indefinite, musical, and intense.]

[Footnote 6: This poem is a tribute to his wife, to whom his beautiful devotion has already been spoken of. "I believe," says Mrs. Osgood, "she was the only woman whom he ever truly loved; and this is evidenced by the exquisite pathos of the little poem lately written, called 'Annabel Lee,'

of which she was the subject, and which is by far the most natural, simple, tender, and touchingly beautiful of all his songs."]

[Footnote 7: This is Poe's poetic designation of America.]

[Footnote 8: "Virginia Clemm, born on the 13th of August, 1822, was still a child when her handsome cousin Edgar revisited Baltimore after his escapade at West Point. A more than cousinly affection, which gradually grew in intensity, resulted from their frequent communion, and ultimately, whilst one, at least, of the two cousins was but a child, they were married."--Ingram's _Edgar Allan Poe_, Vol. I, p. 136.]

[Footnote 9: These were the angels, to whom "Annabel Lee" was akin in sweet, gentle character. "A lady angelically beautiful in person, and not less beautiful in spirit."--Captain Mayne Reid.]

[Footnote 10: This may be literally true. At all events, it is related that he visited the tomb of "Helen"; and "when the autumnal rains fell, and the winds wailed mournfully over the graves, he lingered longest, and came away most regretfully."]

[Footnote 11: This admirable poem is an allegory. The "stately palace" is a man who after a time loses his reason. With this fact in mind, the poem becomes quite clear. The "banners yellow, glorious, golden" is the hair; the "luminous windows" are the eyes; the "ruler of the realm" is reason; "the fair palace door" is the mouth; and the "evil things" are the madman's fantasies. The poem is found in _The Fall of the House of Usher_.

Poe claimed that Longfellow's _Beleaguered City_ was an imitation of _The Haunted Palace_. The former should be read in connection with the latter. Though some resemblance may be discerned, Longfellow must be acquitted of Poe's charge of plagiarism.]

[Footnote 12: This terrible lyric is also an allegory. The "theater" is the world, and the "play" human life. The "mimes" are men, created in the image of G.o.d, and are represented as the "mere puppets" of circ.u.mstance.

The "Phantom chased for evermore" is happiness; but for all, the end is death and the grave.]

[Footnote 13: This poem was first published in the New York _Evening Mirror_, January 29, 1845. "In our opinion," wrote the editor, N. P.

Willis, "it is the most effective single example of 'fugitive poetry'

ever published in this country; and unsurpa.s.sed in English poetry for subtle conception, masterly ingenuity of versification, and consistent sustaining of imaginative lift."

The story of _The Raven_ is given in prose by Poe in his _Philosophy of Composition_, which contains the best a.n.a.lysis of its structure: "A raven, having learned by rote the single word, 'Nevermore,'

and having escaped from the custody of its owner, is driven at midnight, through the violence of a storm, to seek admission at a window from which a light still gleams,--the chamber window of a student, occupied half in poring over a volume, half in dreaming of a beloved mistress deceased.

The cas.e.m.e.nt being thrown open at the fluttering of the bird's wings, the bird itself perches on the most convenient seat out of the immediate reach of the student, who, amused by the incident and the oddity of the visitor's demeanor, demands of it, in jest and without looking for a reply, its name. The raven addressed answers with its customary word, 'Nevermore'--a word which finds immediate echo in the melancholy heart of the student, who, giving utterance aloud to certain thoughts suggested by the occasion, is again startled by the fowl's repet.i.tion of 'Nevermore.' The student now guesses the state of the case, but is impelled, by the human thirst for self-torture, and in part by superst.i.tion, to propound such queries to the bird as will bring him, the lover, the most of the luxury of sorrow, through the antic.i.p.ated answer, 'Nevermore.'"]

[Footnote 14: As Poe explains, the raven is "emblematical of mournful and never-ending remembrance."]

[Footnote 15: From the position of the bird it has been held that the shadow could not possibly fall upon the floor. But the author says: "_My_ conception was that of the bracket candelabrum affixed against the wall, high up above the door and bust, as is often seen in the English palaces, and even in some of the better houses in New York."]

SELECTIONS FROM PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE

For their generous permission to use _Aethra, Under the Pines, Cloud Pictures_, and _Lyric of Action_, the grateful acknowledgments of the editor are due to The Lothrop Publishing Company, Boston, who hold the copyright.

THE WILL AND THE WING [1]