The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe Including Essays on Poetry

By Edgar Allan Poe

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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.

* * * * *


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

* * * * *


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

* * * * *


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

* * * * *

28. 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.

* * * * *





_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,

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Text Comparison with The Complete Poetical Works of Edgar Allan Poe Including Essays on Poetry

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I swam from Ludlam's Wharf to Warwick (six miles), in a hot June sun, against one of the strongest tides ever known in the river.
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With Poe poetry was a personal matter--a channel through which the turbulent passions of his heart found an outlet.
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And he would not allow a word about the danger of her dying: the mention of it drove him wild.
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Hear the loud alarum bells-- Brazen bells! What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells! In the startled ear of night How they scream out their affright! Too much horrified to speak, They can only shriek, shriek, Out of tune, In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire, In.
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* * * * * 18.
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* * * * * 21.
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It speaks of sunken eyes, and wasted cheeks, And beauty long deceased--remembers me, Of Joy departed--Hope, the Seraph Hope, .
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Good-night, my friend, good-night.
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That did you, sir, and well I knew at the time You were wrong, it being not the character Of the Earl--whom all the world allows to be A most hilarious man.
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" She ceas'd--and buried then her burning cheek Abash'd, amid the lilies there, to seek A shelter from the fervor of His eye; For the stars trembled at the Deity.
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burn below, An humbler heart--a deeper woe.
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Mysterious star! Thou wert my dream All a long summer night-- Be now my theme! By this clear stream, Of thee will I write; Meantime from afar Bathe me in light! Thy world has not the dross of ours, Yet all the beauty--all the flowers That list our love or deck our bowers In dreamy gardens, where do lie Dreamy maidens all the day; While the silver winds of Circassy On violet couches faint away.
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Slowly, silently we wandered From the open cottage door, Underneath the elm's long branches To the pavement bending o'er; Underneath the mossy willow And the dying sycamore.
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I had imbibed a prescience of our Fate from comparison of China the simple and enduring, with Assyria the architect, with Egypt the astrologer, with Nubia, more crafty than either, the turbulent mother of all Arts.
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From the wreck of the past, which hath perished, Thus much I at least may recall, It hath taught me that which I most cherished Deserved to be dearest of all: In the desert a fountain is springing, In the wide waste.
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No shrewish teares shall fill your eye When the sword-hilt's in our hand,-- Heart-whole we'll part, and no whit sighe For the fayrest of the land; Let piping swaine, and craven wight, Thus weepe and puling crye, Our business is like men to fight, And hero-like to die! * * * * * THE PHILOSOPHY OF COMPOSITION.
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overgrown, And lilies, that you would it guess To be a little wilderness; And all the spring-time of the year It only loved to be there.