Complete Tales & Poems

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Complete Tales & Poems Page 140

by Edgar Allan Poe


  How should he love thee? or how deem thee wise?

  Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering

  To seek for treasure in the jewelled skies,

  Albeit he soared with an undaunted wing?

  Hast thou not dragged Diana from her car?

  And driven the Hamadryad from the wood

  To seek a shelter in some happier star?

  Hast thou not torn the Naiad from her flood,

  The Elfin from the green grass, and from me

  The summer dream beneath the tamarind tree?

  AL AARAAF2

  PART I

  OH! nothing earthly save the ray

  (Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty’s eye,

  As in those gardens where the day

  Springs from the gems of Circassy—

  Oh! nothing earthly save the thrill

  Of melody in woodland rill;

  Or (music of the passion-hearted)

  Joy’s voice so peacefully departed

  That, like the murmur in the shell,

  Its echo dwelleth and will dwell—

  Oh! nothing of the dross of ours,

  Yet all the beauty, all the flowers,

  That list our Love, and deck our bowers—

  Adorn yon world afar, afar—

  The wandering star.

  ’T was a sweet time for Nesace—for there

  Her world lay lolling on the golden air,

  Near four bright suns—a temporary rest—

  An oasis in desert of the blest.

  Away—away—’mid seas of rays that roll

  Empyrean splendor o’er th’ unchained soul—

  The soul that scarce (the billows are so dense)

  Can struggle to its destin’d eminence—

  To distant spheres, from time to time, she rode.

  And late to ours, the favor’d one of God—

  But, now, the ruler of an anchor’d realm,

  She throws aside the sceptre—leaves the helm,

  And, amid incense and high spiritual hymns,

  Laves in quadruple light her angel limbs.

  Now happiest, loveliest in yon lovely Earth,

  Whence sprang the “Idea of Beauty” into birth

  (Falling in wreaths thro’ many a startled star,

  Like woman’s hair ’mid pearls, until, afar,

  It lit on hills Achaian, and there dwelt)?

  She look’d into Infinity—and knelt.

  Rich clouds, for canopies, about her curled—

  Fit emblems of the model of her world—

  Seen but in beauty—not impeding sight

  Of other beauty glittering thro’ the light—

  A wreath that twined each starry form around,

  And all the opal’d air in color bound.

  All hurriedly she knelt upon a bed

  Of flowers: of lilies such as rear’d the head

  3 On the fair Capo Deucato, and sprang

  So eagerly around about to hang

  Upon the flying footsteps of—–deep pride—

  4 Of her who lov’d a mortal—and so died.

  The Sephalica, budding with young bees,

  Uprear’d its purple stem around her knees.

  5 And gemmy flower, of Trebizond misnam’d—

  Inmate of highest stars, where erst it sham’d

  All other loveliness: its honied dew

  (The fabled nectar that the heathen knew),

  Deliriously sweet, was dropp’d from Heaven,

  And fell on gardens of the unforgiven

  In Trebizond—and on a sunny flower

  So like its own above that, to this hour,

  It still remaineth, torturing the bee

  With madness, and unwonted reverie:

  In Heaven, and all its environs, the leaf

  And blossom of the fairy plant, in grief

  Disconsolate linger—grief that hangs her head,

  Repenting follies that full long have fled,

  Heaving her white breast to the balmy air,

  Like guilty beauty, chasten’d, and more fair:

  Nyctanthes too, as sacred as the light

  She fears to perfume, perfuming the night:

  6 And Clytia pondering between many a sun,

  While pettish tears adown her petals run:

  7 And that aspiring flower that sprang on Earth—

  And died, ere scarce exalted into birth,

  Bursting its odorous heart in spirit to wing

  Its way to Heaven, from garden of a king:

  8 And Valisnerian lotus thither flown

  From struggling with the waters of the Rhone:

  9 And thy most lovely purple perfume, Zanthe!

  Isola d’oro!—Fior di Levante!

  10 And the Nelumbo bud that floats forever

  With Indian Cupid down the holy river—

  Fair flowers, and fairy! to whose care is given

  11 To bear the Goddess’ song, in odors, up to Heaven:

  “Spirit! that dwellest where,

  In the deep sky,

  The terrible and fair

  In beauty vie!

  Beyond the line of blue—

  The boundary of the star

  Which turneth at the view

  Of thy barrier and thy bar—

  Of the barrier overgone

  By the comets who were cast

  From their pride and from their throne

  To be drudges till the last—

  To be carriers of fire

  (The red fire of their heart)

  With speed that may not tire

  And with pain that shall not part—

  Who livest—that we know—

  In Eternity—we feel—

  But the shadow of whose brow

  What spirit shall reveal?

  Tho’ the beings whom thy Nesace,

  Thy messenger hath known

  Have dream’d for thy Infinity

  12 A model of their own—

  Thy will is done, oh, God!

  The star hath ridden high

  Thro’ many a tempest, but she rode

  Beneath thy burning eye;

  And here, in thought, to thee—

  In thought that can alone

  Ascend thy empire, and so be

  A partner of thy throne—

  13 By winged Fantasy,

  My embassy is given,

  Till secrecy shall knowledge be

  In the environs of Heaven.”

  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.

  She stirr’d not—breath’d not—for a voice was there

  How solemnly pervading the calm air!

  A sound of silence on the startled ear

  Which dreamy poets name “the music of the sphere.”

  Ours is a world of words: Quiet we call

  “Silence”—which is the merest word of all.

  All Nature speaks, and ev’n ideal things

  Flap shadowy sounds from visionary wings—

  But ah! not so when, thus, in realms on high

  The eternal voice of God is passing by,

  And the red winds are withering in the sky!

  14 “What tho’ in worlds which sightless cycles run,

  Link’d to a little system, and one sun—

  Where all my love is folly and the crowd

  Still think my terrors but the thunder cloud,

  The storm, the earthquake, and the ocean-wrath—

  (Ah! will they cross me in my angrier path?)

  What tho’ in worlds which own a single sun

  The sands of Time grow dimmer as they run,

  Yet thine is my resplendency, so given

  To bear my secrets thro’ the upper Heaven.

  Leave tenantless thy crystal home, and fly,

  With all thy train, athwart the moony sky


  15 Apart—like fire-flies in Sicilian night,

  And wing to other worlds another light!

  Divulge the secrets of thy embassy

  To the proud orbs that twinkle—and so be

  To ev’ry heart a barrier and a ban

  Lest the stars totter in the guilt of man!”

  Up rose the maiden in the yellow night,

  The single-mooned eve!—on Earth we plight

  Our faith to one love—and one moon adore—

  The birth-place of young Beauty had no more.

  As sprang that yellow star from downy hours

  Up rose the maiden from her shrine of flowers,

  And bent o’er sheeny mountain and dim plain

  16 Her way—but left not yet her Therasæan reign.

  PART II

  HIGH on a mountain of enamell’d head—

  Such as the drowsy shepherd on his bed

  Of giant pasturage lying at his ease,

  Raising his heavy eyelid, starts and sees

  With many a mutter’d “hope to be forgiven”

  What time the moon is quadrated in Heaven—

  Of rosy head, that towering far away

  Into the sunlit ether, caught the ray

  Of sunken suns at eve—at noon of night,

  While the moon danc’d with the fair stranger light—

  Uprear’d upon such height arose a pile

  Of gorgeous columns on th’ unburthen’d air,

  Flashing from Parian marble that twin smile

  Far down upon the wave that sparkled there,

  And nursled the young mountain in its lair.

  17 Of molten stars their pavement, such as fall

  Thro’ the ebon air, besilvering the pall

  Of their own dissolution, while they die—

  Adorning then the dwellings of the sky.

  A dome, by linked light from Heaven let down,

  Sat gently on these columns as a crown—

  A window of one circular diamond, there,

  Look’d out above into the purple air,

  And rays from God shot down that meteor chain

  And hallow’d all the beauty twice again,

  Save when, between th’ Empyrean and that ring,

  Some eager spirit flapp’d his dusky wing.

  But on the pillars Seraph eyes have seen

  The dimness of this world; that greyish green

  That Nature loves the best for Beauty’s grave

  Lurk’d in each cornice, round each architrave—

  And every sculptur’d cherub thereabout,

  That from his marble dwelling peerèd out,

  Seem’d earthly in the shadow of his niche—

  Achaian statues in a world so rich!

  18 Friezes from Tadmor and Persepolis

  From Balbec, and the stilly, clear abyss

  19 Of beautiful Gomorrah! Oh! the wave

  Is now upon thee—but too late to save!

  Sound loves to revel in a summer night:

  Witness the murmur of the grey twilight

  20 That stole upon the ear, in Eyraco,

  Of many a wild star-gazer long ago—

  That stealeth ever on the ear of him

  Who, musing, gazeth on the distance dim,

  And sees the darkness coming as a cloud—

  21 Is not its form—its voice—most palpable and loud?

  But what is this?—it cometh—and it brings

  A music with it—’tis the rush of wings—

  A pause—and then a sweeping, falling strain,

  And Nesace is in her halls again.

  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.

  Within the centre of that hall to breathe

  She paus’d and panted, Zanthe! all beneath,

  The fairy light that kiss’d her golden hair

  And long’d to rest, yet could but sparkle there!

  22 Young flowers were whispering in melody

  To happy flowers that night—and tree to tree;

  Fountains were gushing music as they fell

  In many a star-lit grove, or moon-lit dell;

  Yet silence came upon material things—

  Fair flowers, bright waterfalls and angel wings—

  And sound alone that from the spirit sprang

  Bore burthen to the charm the maiden sang:

  “ ’Neath blue-bell or streamer—

  Or tufted wild spray

  That keeps, from the dreamer,

  23 The moonbeam away—

  Bright beings! that ponder,

  With half-closing eyes,

  On the stars, which your wonder

  Hath drawn from the skies,

  Till they glance thro’ the shade, and

  Come down to your brow

  Like—–eyes of the maiden

  Who calls on you now—

  Arise! from your dreaming

  In violet bowers,

  To duty beseeming

  These star-litten hours—

  And shake from your tresses

  Encumber’d with dew

  The breath of those kisses

  That cumber them too—

  (Oh, how, without you, Love!

  Could angels be blest?)

  Those kisses of true love

  That lull’d ye to rest!

  Up!—shake from your wing

  Each hindering thing:

  The dew of the night—

  It would weigh down your flight

  And true love caresses—

  Oh! leave them apart!

  They are light on the tresses,

  But lead on the heart.

  “Ligeia! Ligeia!

  My beautiful one!

  Whose harshest idea

  Will to melody run,

  Oh! is it thy will

  On the breezes to toss?

  Or, capriciously still,

  24 Like the lone Albatross,

  Incumbent on night

  (As she on the air)

  To keep watch with delight

  On the harmony there?

  “Ligeia! wherever

  Thy image may be,

  No magic shall sever

  Thy music from thee.

  Thou hast bound many eyes

  In a dreamy sleep—

  But the strains still arise

  Which thy vigilance keep—

  The sound of the rain

  Which leaps down to the flower,

  And dances again

  In the rhythm of the shower—

  25 The murmur that springs

  From the growing of grass

  Are the music of things—

  But are modell’d, alas!—

  Away, then, my dearest,

  Oh! hie thee away

  To springs that lie clearest

  Beneath the moon-ray—

  To lone lake that smiles,

  In its dream of deep rest,

  At the many star-isles

  That enjewel its breast—

  Where wild flowers, creeping,

  Have mingled their shade,

  On its margin is sleeping

  Full many a maid—

  Some have left the cool glade, and

  26 Have slept with the bee—

  Arouse them, my maiden,

  On moorland and lea—

  Go! breathe on their slumber,

  All softly in ear,

  The musical number

  They slumber’d to hear—

  For what can awaken

  An angel so soon

  Whose sleep hath been taken

  Beneath the cold moon,

  As the spell which no slumber

  Of witchery may test,

  The rhythmical number

  Which lull’d him to rest?”

  Spirits in wing, and an
gels to the view,

  A thousand seraphs burst th’ Empyrean thro’,

  Young dreams still hovering on their drowsy flight—

  Seraphs in all but “Knowledge,” the keen light

  That fell, refracted, thro’ thy bounds, afar,

  O Death! from eye of God upon that star:

  Sweet was that error—sweeter still that death—

  Sweet was that error—ev’n with us the breath

  Of Science dims the mirror of our joy—

  To them ’twere the Simoom; and would destroy—

  For what (to them) availeth it to know

  That Truth is Falsehood—or that Bliss is Woe?

  Sweet was their death—with them to die was rife

  With the last ecstasy of satiate life—

  Beyond that death no immortality—

  But sleep that pondereth is not “to be”—

  And there—oh! may my weary spirit dwell—

  27 Apart from Heaven’s Eternity—and yet how far from Hell!

  What guilty spirit, in what shrubbery dim,

  Heard not the stirring summons of that hymn?

  But two: they fell: for Heaven no grace imparts

  To those who hear not for their beating hearts.

  A maiden-angel and her seraph-lover—

  Oh! where (and ye may seek the wide skies over)

  Was Love, the blind, near sober Duty known?

  28 Unguided Love hath fallen—’mid “tears of perfect moan.”

  He was a goodly spirit—he who fell:

  A wanderer by mossy-mantled well—

  A gazer on the lights that shine above—

  A dreamer in the moonbeam by his love:

  What wonder? for each star is eye-like there,

  And looks so sweetly down on Beauty’s hair—

  And they, and ev’ry mossy spring were holy

  To his love-haunted heart and melancholy.

  The night had found (to him a night of woe)

  Upon a mountain crag, young Angelo—

  Beetling it bends athwart the solemn sky,

  And scowls on starry worlds that down beneath it lie.

  Here sat he with his love—his dark eye bent

  With eagle gaze along the firmament:

  Now turn’d it upon her—but ever then

  It trembled to the orb of EARTH again.

  “Ianthe, dearest, see! how dim that ray!

  How lovely ’tis to look so far away!

  She seem’d not thus upon that autumn eve

  I left her gorgeous halls—nor mourn’d to leave.

  That eve—that eve—I should remember well—

  The sun-ray dropp’d, in Lemnos, with a spell

  On th’ Arabesque carving of a gilded hall

 

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