A. POE. The singular poem
Poe's, called "The Bells," which we published in our last Number, has
very extensively copied. There is a curious piece of literary history
with this poem, which we may as well give now as at any other time. It
illustrates the gradual development of an idea in the mind of a man of
original genius. This poem came into our possession about a year since.
It then consisted of eighteen lines! They were as follows:
THE BELLS. — A
The bells! — hear the bells!
The merry wedding bells!
The little silver bells!
How fairy-like a melody there swells
From the silver tinkling cells
Of the bells, bells, bells!
Of the bells!
The bells! — ah, the bells!
The heavy iron bells!
Hear the tolling of the bells!
Hear the knells!
How horrible a monody there floats
From their throats —
From their deep-toned
How I shudder at the notes
From the melancholy throats
Of the bells, bells, bells —
Of the bells —
six months after this, we received the poem
and altered nearly to its present size and form, and about three months
since the author sent another alteration and enlargement, in which
the poem was left at the time of his death.
We may remark in passing, that this is not Mr.
Poe's last poem, as some of the papers have asserted. We have
one of his which probably is his last. It was received a short time
his decease. We shall give in in our January Number.