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- 1848
- TO HELEN
- by Edgar Allan Poe
-
- I saw thee once- once only- years ago:
- I must not say how many- but not many.
- It was a July midnight; and from out
- A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
- Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
- There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
- With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
- Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
- Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
- Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe-
- Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
- That gave out, in return for the love-light,
- Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death-
- Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
- That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted
- By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence.
-
- Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
- I saw thee half reclining; while the moon
- Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses,
- And on thine own, upturn'd- alas, in sorrow!
-
- Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight-
- Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,)
- That bade me pause before that garden-gate,
- To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses?
- No footstep stirred: the hated world an slept,
- Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven!- oh, God!
- How my heart beats in coupling those two words!)
- Save only thee and me. I paused- I looked-
- And in an instant all things disappeared.
- (Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!)
-
- The pearly lustre of the moon went out:
- The mossy banks and the meandering paths,
- The happy flowers and the repining trees,
- Were seen no more: the very roses' odors
- Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
- All- all expired save thee- save less than thou:
- Save only the divine light in thine eyes-
- Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes.
- I saw but them- they were the world to me!
- I saw but them- saw only them for hours,
- Saw only them until the moon went down.
- What wild heart-histories seemed to he enwritten
- Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
- How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope!
- How silently serene a sea of pride!
- How daring an ambition; yet how deep-
- How fathomless a capacity for love!
-
- But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight,
- Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
- And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
- Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained;
- They would not go- they never yet have gone;
- Lighting my lonely pathway home that night,
- They have not left me (as my hopes have) since;
- They follow me- they lead me through the years.
- They are my ministers- yet I their slave.
- Their office is to illumine and enkindle-
- My duty, to be saved by their bright light,
- And purified in their electric fire,
- And sanctified in their elysian fire.
- They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope),
- And are far up in Heaven- the stars I kneel to
- In the sad, silent watches of my night;
- While even in the meridian glare of day
- I see them still- two sweetly scintillant
- Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!
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-
- -THE END-
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