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Text: Edgar Allan Poe, "To — — —" (B), Columbian Magazine, March 1848, 9:138





[page 138, full page:]

TO — — —.
  ———
  BY EDGAR A. POE.
  ———
[Column 1:]
NOT long ago, the writer of these lines,
In the mad pride of intellectuality,
Maintained "the power of words" — denied that ever
A thought arose within the human brain
Beyond the utterance of the human tongue;
And now, as if in mockery of that boast,
Two words — two foreign soft dissyllables —
Italian tones made only to be murmured
By angels dreaming in the moonlit "dew
That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill" —
Have stirred from out the abysses of his heart,
Unthought-like thoughts that are the souls of thought,
Richer, far wilder, far diviner visions
Than even the seraph harper, Israfel, [column 2:]
Who has "the sweetest voice of all God's creatures,"
Could hope to utter. And I ! my spells are broken.
The pen falls powerless from my shivering hand.
With thy dear name as text, though bidden by thee,
I cannot write — I cannot speak or think,
Alas! I cannot feel; for 'tis not feeling,
This standing motionless upon the golden
Threshold of the wide-open gate of dreams,
Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista,
And thrilling as I see upon the right,
Upon the left, and all the way along
Amid empurpled vapors, far away
To where the prospect terminates — thee only.










Notes:

The three dashes are for "Marie Louise Shew," Poe's friend and Virginia's nurse. The back cover of this issue lists "To -- -- --, by Edgar A. Poe" in the table of contents, as well as giving Poe's name under the list of contributors. The back cover also touts: "CONTENTS --- ENTIRELY ORIGINAL."







 
[S:1 -CM, 1848] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Poems - To -- -- -- [To Marie Lousie Shew] (B)