Text: John H. Ingram, “Variations in Edgar Poe's Poetry,” Bibliophile (London, UK), vol. III, no. 3, May 1909, pp. 128-136

[page 128:]

“MOST writers — poets in especial — prefer having it understood that they compose by a species of fine frenzy,” said Edgar Poe, and then guided by his own experience explains how contrary that is to fact. To prove the truth of the theory he propounds, that poems may be works of art of mechanism he proceeds to relate how his best known poem, “The Raven,” was made, step by step, from origin to completion, “with the precision and rigid consequence of a mathematical problem.”

At this moment it is needless to inquire whether Edgar Poe wrote his essay on “The Philosophy of Composition” in jest or earnest, but what can be proved is that he, like many another famous poet, did not disdain to revise and amend his metrical work over and over again, even after it had been placed before the public. Could the original draft of “The Raven” be discovered, doubtless, it would present many vital divergencies from the accepted text, and, as it is, numerous variations are to be found between the different versions of the poem which appeared during the lifetime of the author and with his sanction. The first authorised publication of “The Raven” was in the New York Evening Mirror of January 29th, 1845, the second, really intended to have been the first, and the same in text, appeared in the American Review for February; the third was a reprint in the Broadway Journal, and the fourth in Poe's volume, “The Raven and Other Poems,” all published in 1845.

The fourth revision of “The Raven” may be accepted as giving Poe's last word on the subject, and has every claim to be regarded as the standard version. The minor modifications of these varying texts, even when improvements, do not call for much comment: they include the substitution of “sought” for “tried”; “stillness” for “darkness”; “minute” for “instant”; “living human” for “sublunary”; “startled” for “wondering”; “seraphim those footfalls,” for “ angels whose faint foot-falls,” and some other slighter changes, but in the twelfth stanza occurs a note-worthy and important alteration. In place of the splendid roll of melancholy music which now causes the concluding lines of the stanza referred to to [[sic]] be regarded as the finest and most quoted in the poem, lines four to six originally ended thus weakly: [page 130:]

Next to “The Raven” in importance as regards length and popularity is “The Bells.” Of this poem the changes from its inception to its present state are drastic. The subject and some lines of the first version having been suggested to Poe by his friend Marie Louise Shew, in circumstances needless to recapitulate here, in writing out the first draft the poet headed it, “The Bells. By Mrs. M. L. Shew.” This first version, consisting only of seventeen lines, subsequently became my property : it reads thus:

In the autumn of 1848 Poe, after adding three new lines and omitting two from the above version of “ The Bells,” and making various slighter changes, sent the poem to Sartain's Union Magazine, but the lady then editing that publication did not appear to consider the piece suitable for the periodical. In the following February the unfortunate author made another and greatly lengthened version and forwarded that also to the same magazine, but with a similar result. It was not deemed worthy publication. Three months having elapsed Poe actually made a fourth attempt, and having revised the poem to its present state sent it also to the Union Magazine. It was put on one side and would, doubtless, have been relegated eventually to the waste paper basket had not its author suddenly died. A demand arose for the dead man's work, so “The Bells” was published, in the November number of the periodical. Various changes had been made in the penultimate draft of the poem, and Poe having preserved a copy of the piece as revised, which copy eventually passed into our hands, these alterations are available for inspection. Many of the changes were merely transposition of words, and it is not until the sixth line of the fourth stanza is reached that any verbal revision occurs when “meaning” was altered into the more sonorous “menace”; and the eighth line was changed from “out their ghostly throats” to the “rust within their throats”; whilst in the eleventh line for “who live” was substituted “they that sleep.” A nineteenth line of little value reading, “But are pestilential carcases disparted from their souls,” was cancelled, and the line following “ They are Ghouls,” was substituted for “called Ghouls.” These many and thoughtful revisions show how a poet of Poe's calibre could alter and improve a metrical production from a slight lyric of no importance into an impressive masterpiece.

“Ulalume” is one of the most weird as well as most melodious poems in English literature. It was first published anonymously in the December, 1847, number of Colton's Whig Review, as “To Ulalume: a Ballad,” after having been rejected by the woman editor of the Union Magazine. It was reprinted in the Home Journal of January 1st, 1848, and the editor, N. P. Willis, raised a query as to its authorship, but apparently, that question had already been settled in the Providence Journal. Some slight changes were subsequently made in the version left by Poe, but the cancellation, at the suggestion [page 131:] of Mrs. Whitman, of the feeble and awkwardly phrased final stanza, was a real improvement. The cancelled lines were these:

Many of Poe's admirers regard “Annabel Lee” as his finest poetic production. It was his latest poem, and was not published until after his death. It had been composed but a short time before the end came, and his final revision was that given in the posthumous collection of his works. It is evidently a dirge for his unforgotten bride — an expression of undying love for his lost wife although certain of his lady admirers sought to have it regarded as a response to their admiration. The author sent a copy of the ballad to the Union Magazine, despite the fact its editor had the unused MS. of “The Bells” on hand already. After suffering some time from hope deferred as to its fate, he gave a copy of it to the editor of the Southern Literary Messenger. The poem was still being held in reserve by the lady who edited the Union, she evidently deeming Poe's poetic manuscripts as of slight value, when the poet's sudden death, on 7th October, 1849, caused his papers to pass into the hands of Griswold. Finding the revised poem, he quoted it in an obituary of its author, in the New York Tribune, before anyone else had a chance of publishing it. In the following month the piece appeared in the Southern Literary Messenger, and in the next January the first version was issued in the Union Magazine. The variations in the different manuscripts of “Annabel Lee” are few, but one is valuable, and has given rise to much controversial correspondence. The last line of the last stanza in the text according to the Southern Literary Messenger is, “In her tomb by the side of the sea,” but in Poe's final draft of the poem this utterly commonplace version was revised to “by the sounding sea,” a fit finish for a beautiful ballad.

The melodious lines “For Annie” were written early in 1848. They were first published in The Flag of Our Union, a short-lived periodical, which has entirely disappeared: not a copy is known to exist. Poe being annoyed at several misprints in the publication, caused a corrected copy to be inserted in the Home Journal. The text now in circulation is from the collected edition of 1850, but that differs in several respects from the draft of the poem as given by the author to “Annie” herself, the copy which is now in our possession. In our manuscript the punctuation is more typical of Poe's general mannerisms, and some of the variations seem preferable to the published version. Most of the changes consist of the transference of words from one line to the previous one, as for instance, the second stanza beginning,

in our copy reads

Other changes include the substitution of “glory” for “passion” in the sixth line of the sixth stanza; of “pansy” for “ pansies “ all through the tenth stanza; of “truth” for “love” in the eleventh stanza; “Stars in the sky” for “Stars of the Heaven” in the third line, and “light” for “ thought “ in the fifth line of the final stanza, as well as various more minute changes. [page 135:]

Apart from its intrinsic merit, “The Coliseum” is interesting from the fact that being selected in 1833, by the adjudicators of a Baltimore publication, for a prize, it was the means of first bringing Edgar Poe's name before the public as an author. Eventually, the prize gained by Poe for “The Coliseum” was not assigned to him, as he had gained a higher award for a prose story, and there is no proof that the poem was published earlier than August, 1835, when it was issued in the Southern Literary Messenger. A fragment of the poem in our possession appears to date back to the time of the Baltimore prize competition in 1833, and is, therefore, the earliest known literary manuscript in Poe's handwriting. The only variation in our fragment, as far as it goes, from the accepted text of 1845, is of “stand” in lieu of “kneel” in the seventh line, but many other and more important changes were made, if the Messenger version may be regarded as the same as the prize poem. After the eleventh line the following words are deleted,

and the twenty-first line was followed by these —

Several lesser alterations are made, greatly improving the poem as a whole.

Poe's most original poem is “The Conqueror Worm.” It is unique in subject and treatment; it is without a parallel in literature. The title of the poem was derived from a line in a lyric Poe reviewed in Burton's Gentleman's Magazine, for June, 1840, but nothing beyond the title was gained from the lyric referred to. As a separate poem “The Conqueror Worm” appeared in Graham's Magazine for January, 1843, and afterwards, being embodied in Poe's tale of “Ligeia,” was republished in various periodicals. The [page 136:] standard text is that of 1845, which differs in many respects from that of 1843. In the first stanza, “an angel” took the place of “a mystic”; in the second stanza “formless” was substituted for “shadowy”; in the second line of the last stanza “quivering” was adopted in place of “dying”; and a few other changes, all improvements, were made. [column 2:]

Most of Poe's poems underwent similar and in some cases more radical revisions than those described, but sufficient has been said to prove that his lyrical work, if originally inspired, like that of most great masters of poesy, underwent much thoughtful polishing before its author was satisfied to leave it to the judgment of posterity.