The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 100

and efficient--not less, for such a vessel as I have described,
than fifty or sixty able-bodied men. The Jane Guy had a crew of
thirty-five, all able seamen, besides the captain and mate, but she
was not altogether as well armed or otherwise equipped, as a navigator
acquainted with the difficulties and dangers of the trade could have

Captain Guy was a gentleman of great urbanity of manner, and of
considerable experience in the southern traffic, to which he had devoted
a great portion of his life. He was deficient, however, in energy, and,
consequently, in that spirit of enterprise which is here so absolutely
requisite. He was part owner of the vessel in which he sailed, and was
invested with discretionary powers to cruise in the South Seas for any
cargo which might come most readily to hand. He had on board, as usual
in such voyages, beads, looking-glasses, tinder-works, axes, hatchets,
saws, adzes, planes, chisels, gouges, gimlets, files, spokeshaves,
rasps, hammers, nails, knives, scissors, razors, needles, thread,
crockery-ware, calico, trinkets, and other similar articles.

The schooner sailed from Liverpool on the tenth of July, crossed the
Tropic of Cancer on the twenty-fifth, in longitude twenty degrees west,
and reached Sal, one of the Cape Verd islands, on the twenty-ninth,
where she took in salt and other necessaries for the voyage. On
the third of August, she left the Cape Verds and steered southwest,
stretching over toward the coast of Brazil, so as to cross the equator
between the meridians of twenty-eight and thirty degrees west longitude.
This is the course usually taken by vessels bound from Europe to the
Cape of Good Hope, or by that route to the East Indies. By proceeding
thus they avoid the calms and strong contrary currents which continually
prevail on the coast of Guinea, while, in the end, it is found to be the
shortest track, as westerly winds are never wanting afterward by which
to reach the Cape. It was Captain Guy’s intention to make his first
stoppage at Kerguelen’s Land--I hardly know for what reason. On the
day we were picked up the schooner was off Cape St. Roque, in longitude
thirty-one degrees west; so that, when found, we had drifted probably,
from north to south, _not less than five-and-twenty degrees!_

On board the Jane Guy we were treated with all the kindness our
distressed situation demanded. In about a fortnight, during which time
we continued steering to the southeast, with gentle breezes and fine
weather, both Peters and myself recovered entirely from the effects of
our late privation and dreadful sufferings, and we began to remember

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Text Comparison with The Bells, and Other Poems

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Is a groan.
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Now doubt--now Pain Come never again, For her soul gives me sigh for sigh, And all day long Shines, bright and strong, Astarté within the sky, While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye-- While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.
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[Illustration: To One in Paradise] _LENORE_ Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll!--a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river; And, Guy de Vere, hast _thou_ no tear?--weep now or nevermore! See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore! Come! let the burial rite be read--the funeral song be sung!-- An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young-- A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.
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amid its hallowed mirth, Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damnèd Earth! And I!--to-night my heart is light!--no dirge will I upraise, But waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!" _DREAMS_ Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
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I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand-- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep--while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save _One_ from the pitiless wave? Is _all_ that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? _THE CITY IN THE SEA_ Lo! Death has reared himself a throne In a strange city lying alone Far down within the dim West, Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best Have gone to their eternal rest.
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But were stopped by the door of a tomb-- By the door of a legended tomb; And I said--"What is written, sweet sister, On the door of this legended tomb?" She replied--"Ulalume--Ulalume-- 'Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!" Then my heart it grew ashen and sober As the leaves that were crisped and sere-- As the leaves that were withering and sere; And I cried--"It was surely October On _this_ very night of last year That I journeyed--I journeyed down here-- That I brought a dread burden down here-- On this night of all nights in the year, Ah, what demon has tempted me here? Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber-- This misty mid region of Weir-- Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber, This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
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Not that the grass--O! may it thrive! On my grave is growing or grown-- But that, while I am dead yet alive I cannot be, lady, alone.
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[Illustration: To the river] _A DREAM_ In visions of the dark night I have dreamed of joy departed-- But a waking dream of life and light Hath left me broken-hearted.
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From the wild energy of wanton haste Her cheeks were flushing, and her lips apart; And zone that clung around her gentle waist Had burst beneath the heaving of her heart.
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[Illustration: Al Aaraaf] Ligeia! Ligeia! My beautiful one! Whose harshest idea Will to melody run, O! is it thy will On the breezes to toss? Or, capriciously still, Like the lone Albatross, Incumbent on night (As she on the air) To keep watch with delight .
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A maiden-angel and her seraph-lover-- O! where (and ye may seek the wide skies over) Was Love, the blind, near sober Duty known? Unguided Love hath fallen--'mid "tears of perfect moan.
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_TO F----S S.
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] 1 In youth have I known one with whom the Earth In secret communing held--as he with it, In daylight, and in beauty from his birth: Whose.
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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.
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birds, Are lips--and all thy melody Of lip-begotten words-- Thine eyes, in Heaven of heart enshrined, Then desolately fall, O God! on my funereal mind Like starlight on a pall-- Thy heart--_thy_ heart!--I wake and sigh, And sleep to dream till day Of the truth that gold can never buy-- Of the baubles that it may.
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We rule the hearts of mightiest men--we rule With a despotic sway all giant minds.
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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 fringèd lid; And thus the sad Soul that here passes Beholds it but through darkened glasses.
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What tho' the moon--the white moon Shed all the splendour of her noon, _Her_ smile is chilly, and _her_ beam, In that time of dreariness, will seem (So like you gather in your breath) A portrait taken after.
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Father, I firmly do believe-- I _know_--for Death, who comes for me From regions of the blest afar, Where there is nothing to deceive, Hath left his iron gate ajar, And rays of truth you cannot see Are flashing thro' Eternity---- I do believe that Eblis hath A snare in every human path-- Else how, when in the holy grove I wandered of the idol, Love, Who daily scents his snowy wings With incense of burnt offerings From the most unpolluted things, Whose pleasant bowers are yet so riven Above with trellis'd rays from Heaven No mote may shun--no tiniest fly-- The light'ning of his eagle eye-- How was it that Ambition crept, Unseen, amid the revels there, Till growing bold, he laughed and leapt In the tangles of Love's very hair?.