The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe Part 13

DREAMLAND.

By a route obscure and lonely, Haunted by ill angels only, Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT, On a black throne reigns upright, I have reached these lands but newly From an ultimate dim Thule-- From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime, Out of s.p.a.cE--out of TIME.

Bottomless vales and boundless floods, And chasms, and caves, and t.i.tan woods, With forms that no man can discover For the dews that drip all over; Mountains toppling evermore Into seas without a sh.o.r.e; Seas that restlessly aspire, Surging, unto skies of fire; Lakes that endlessly outspread Their lone waters--lone and dead, Their still waters--still and chilly With the snows of the lolling lily.

By the lakes that thus outspread Their lone waters, lone and dead,-- Their sad waters, sad and chilly With the snows of the lolling lily,--

By the mountains--near the river Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,-- By the gray woods,--by the swamp Where the toad and the newt encamp,-- By the dismal tarns and pools Where dwell the Ghouls,-- By each spot the most unholy-- In each nook most melancholy,--

There the traveller meets aghast Sheeted Memories of the past-- Shrouded forms that start and sigh As they pa.s.s the wanderer by-- White-robed forms of friends long given, In agony, to the Earth--and Heaven.

For the heart whose 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 pa.s.ses Beholds it but through darkened gla.s.ses.

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.

1844

TO ZANTE.

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 sh.o.r.e, O hyacinthine isle! O purple Zante!

"Isola d'oro! Fior di Levante!"

1887.

HYMN.

At morn--at noon--at twilight dim-- Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!

In joy and wo--in good and ill-- Mother of G.o.d, 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 s.h.i.+ne With sweet hopes of thee and thine!

1885.

NOTES.

20. LENORE

"Lenore" was published, very nearly in its existing shape, in 'The Pioneer' for 1843, but under the t.i.tle of "The Paean"--now first published in the POEMS OF YOUTH--the germ of it appeared in 1831.