HomeEdgar Allan PoeIN YOUTH I HAVE KNOWN ONE

“IN YOUTH I HAVE KNOWN ONE”. Edgar Allan Poe

“IN YOUTH I HAVE KNOWN ONE”

     How often we forget all time, when lone
     Admiring Nature’s universal throne;
     Her woods—her wilds—her mountains-the intense
     Reply of Hers to Our intelligence!

                             I

     IN youth I have known one with whom the Earth
         In secret communing held-as he with it,
     In daylight, and in beauty, from his birth:
         Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit
     From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth
         A passionate light such for his spirit was fit
     And yet that spirit knew-not in the hour
         Of its own fervor-what had o’er it power.

                            II

     Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought
         To a fever* by the moonbeam that hangs o’er,
     But I will half believe that wild light fraught
         With more of sovereignty than ancient lore
     Hath ever told-or is it of a thought
         The unembodied essence, and no more
     That with a quickening spell doth o’er us pass
         As dew of the night-time, o’er the summer grass?

                                   III

     Doth o’er us pass, when, as th’ expanding eye
         To the loved object-so the tear to the lid
     Will start, which lately slept in apathy?
         And yet it need not be—(that object) hid
     From us in life-but common-which doth lie
         Each hour before us—but then only bid
     With a strange sound, as of a harp-string broken
         T’ awake us—‘Tis a symbol and a token

                               IV

     Of what in other worlds shall be—and given
         In beauty by our God, to those alone
     Who otherwise would fall from life and Heaven
         Drawn by their heart’s passion, and that tone,
     That high tone of the spirit which hath striven
         Though not with Faith-with godliness—whose throne
     With desperate energy ‘t hath beaten down;
         Wearing its own deep feeling as a crown.

          * Query “fervor”?—ED.

A P?AN.

                         I.

     How shall the burial rite be read?
         The solemn song be sung?
     The requiem for the loveliest dead,
         That ever died so young?

                         II.

     Her friends are gazing on her,
         And on her gaudy bier,
     And weep!—oh! to dishonor
         Dead beauty with a tear!

                        III.

     They loved her for her wealth—
         And they hated her for her pride—
     But she grew in feeble health,
         And they love her—that she died.

                       IV.

     They tell me (while they speak
         Of her “costly broider’d pall”)
     That my voice is growing weak—
         That I should not sing at all—

                        V.

     Or that my tone should be
         Tun’d to such solemn song
     So mournfully—so mournfully,
         That the dead may feel no wrong.

                       VI.

     But she is gone above,
         With young Hope at her side,
     And I am drunk with love
         Of the dead, who is my bride.—

                      VII.

     Of the dead—dead who lies
         All perfum’d there,
     With the death upon her eyes,
         And the life upon her hair.

                     VIII.

     Thus on the coffin loud and long
         I strike—the murmur sent
     Through the grey chambers to my song,
         Shall be the accompaniment.

                      IX.

     Thou died’st in thy life’s June—
         But thou did’st not die too fair:
     Thou did’st not die too soon,
         Nor with too calm an air.

                       X.

     From more than fiends on earth,
         Thy life and love are riven,
     To join the untainted mirth
         Of more than thrones in heaven—

                      XII.

     Therefore, to thee this night
         I will no requiem raise,
     But waft thee on thy flight,
         With a P?an of old days.

Thank you for reading Edgar Allan Poe "IN YOUTH I HAVE KNOWN ONE"!
Read Edgar Allan Poe
Main page


© elibrary.club
feedback