Text: Thomas Skinner Surr (ed. James H. Whitty), “The Vital Stream,” The Complete Poems of Edgar Allan Poe, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1911, p. 151


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[page 151:]

THE VITAL STREAM

FLOW softly — gently — vital stream;

Ye crimson life-drops, stay;

Indulge me with this pleasing dream

Thro’ an eternal day.

See — see — my soul, her agony!

See how her eye-balls glare!

Those shrieks, delightful harmony,

Proclaim her deep despair.

Rise — rise — infernal spirits, rise,

Swift dart across her brain

Thou Horror, with blood-chilling cries,

Lead on thy hidious train.

O, feast my soul, revenge is sweet,

Louisa, take my scorn; —

Curs’d was the hour that saw us meet,

The hour when we were born.

 


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Notes:

None.

 

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[S:0 - JHW11, 1911] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - The Vital Stream (ed. J. H. Whitty, 1911)