The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 3

By Edgar Allan Poe

Page 74

and continued for many minutes weeping like a

The vessel in sight was a large hermaphrodite brig, of a Dutch build,
and painted black, with a tawdry gilt figure-head. She had evidently
seen a good deal of rough weather, and, we supposed, had suffered
much in the gale which had proved so disastrous to ourselves; for her
foretopmast was gone, and some of her starboard bulwarks. When we first
saw her, she was, as I have already said, about two miles off and to
windward, bearing down upon us. The breeze was very gentle, and what
astonished us chiefly was, that she had no other sails set than her
foremast and mainsail, with a flying jib--of course she came down but
slowly, and our impatience amounted nearly to phrensy. The awkward
manner in which she steered, too, was remarked by all of us, even
excited as we were. She yawed about so considerably, that once or twice
we thought it impossible she could see us, or imagined that, having seen
us, and discovered no person on board, she was about to tack and make
off in another direction. Upon each of these occasions we screamed and
shouted at the top of our voices, when the stranger would appear to
change for a moment her intention, and again hold on toward us--this
singular conduct being repeated two or three times, so that at last we
could think of no other manner of accounting for it than by supposing
the helmsman to be in liquor.

No person was seen upon her decks until she arrived within about a
quarter of a mile of us. We then saw three seamen, whom by their dress
we took to be Hollanders. Two of these were lying on some old sails near
the forecastle, and the third, who appeared to be looking at us with
great curiosity, was leaning over the starboard bow near the bowsprit.
This last was a stout and tall man, with a very dark skin. He seemed
by his manner to be encouraging us to have patience, nodding to us in
a cheerful although rather odd way, and smiling constantly, so as to
display a set of the most brilliantly white teeth. As his vessel drew
nearer, we saw a red flannel cap which he had on fall from his head into
the water; but of this he took little or no notice, continuing his
odd smiles and gesticulations. I relate these things and circumstances
minutely, and I relate them, it must be understood, precisely as they
_appeared _to us.

The brig came on slowly, and now

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Text Comparison with The Works of Edgar Allan Poe — Volume 5

Page 15
Hop-Frog, who, although he made a great deal of sport, was by no means popular, had it not in his power to render Trippetta many services; but she, on account of her grace and exquisite beauty (although a dwarf), was universally admired and petted; so she possessed much influence; and never failed to use it, whenever she could, for the benefit of Hop-Frog.
Page 34
Turning upon his heel, he left my presence with undignified precipitation.
Page 43
The poor gentleman had been tracked, by his horses shoes (which were peculiar), to a spot about three miles to the east of the borough, on the main road leading to the city.
Page 73
The teeth and hair were in good condition.
Page 94
But not so:--a natural manner is difficult only to him who should never meddle with it--to the unnatural.
Page 95
"easy" or "natural" than a Cockney exquisite, or than the sleeping Beauty in the waxworks.
Page 106
And in regard to Truth, if, to be sure, through the attainment of a truth we are led to perceive a harmony where none was apparent before, we experience at once the true poetical effect; but this effect is referable to the harmony alone, and not in the least degree to the truth which merely served to render the harmony manifest.
Page 114
" Then the bird said "Nevermore.
Page 115
" "Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil! By that Heaven that bends above us--by that God 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.
Page 124
She has seen that the tears are not dry on These cheeks, where the worm never dies, And has come past the stars of the Lion, To point us the path to the skies-- To the Lethean peace of the skies-- Come up, in despite of the Lion, To shine on us with her bright eyes-- Come up, through the lair of the Lion, With love in her luminous eyes.
Page 132
And so it lies happily, Bathing in many A dream of the truth And the beauty of Annie-- Drowned in a bath Of the tresses of Annie.
Page 151
DREAM-LAND 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 SPACE--out of TIME.
Page 154
Page 156
In the background Jacinta (a servant maid) leans carelessly upon a chair.
Page 166
And life shall then be mine, for I will live For thee, and in thine eyes--and thou shalt be No more a mourner--but the radiant Joys Shall wait upon thee, and the angel Hope Attend thee ever; and I will kneel to thee And worship thee, and call thee my beloved, My own, my beautiful, my love, my wife, My all;--oh, wilt thou--wilt thou, Lalage, Fly thither with me? Lal.
Page 169
(greatly softened.
Page 170
villain,--I'll taunt thee, Dost hear? with cowardice--thou wilt not fight me? Thou liest! thou shalt! (exit.
Page 199
_ And greener fields than in yon world above, And women's loveliness--and passionate love.
Page 211
Page 225
DOUBTFUL POEMS ALONE From childhood's hour I have not been As others were--I have not seen As others saw--I could not bring My passions from a common spring-- From the same source I have not taken My sorrow--I could not awaken My heart to joy at the same tone-- And all I lov'd--_I_ lov'd alone-- _Then_--in my childhood--in the dawn Of a most stormy life--was drawn From ev'ry depth of good and ill The mystery which binds me still-- From the torrent, or the fountain-- From the red cliff of the mountain-- From the sun that 'round me roll'd In its autumn tint of gold-- From the lightning in the sky As it pass'd me flying by-- From the thunder, and the storm-- And the cloud that took the form (When the rest of Heaven was blue) Of a demon in my view-- {This poem is no longer considered doubtful as it was in 1903.