Text: Edgar Allan Poe (ed. Killis Campbell), “To M. L. S——,” The Poems of Edgar Allan Poe, Ginn and Company, 1917, p. 116


[page 116:]

TO M. L. S——

Of all who hail thy presence as the morning —

Of all to whom thine absence is the night —

The blotting utterly from out high heaven

The sacred sun — of all who, weeping, bless thee


Hourly for hope — for life — ah! above all,


For the resurrection of deep-buried faith

In Truth — in Virtue — in Humanity —

Of all who, on Despair's unhallowed bed

Lying down to die, have suddenly arisen


At thy soft-murmured words, “Let there be light!”

At the soft-murmured words that were fulfilled


In the seraphic glancing of thine eyes —

Of all who owe thee most — whose gratitude

Nearest resembles worship — oh, remember


The truest — the most fervently devoted,

And think that these weak lines are written by him —

By him who, as he pens them, thrills to think

His spirit is communing with an angel's.








[S:0 - KCP, 1917] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - To M. L. S---- (ed. K. Campbell, 1917)