Text: Unknown, “Extract from an Unfinished Poem,” Southern Literary Messenger, March 1835, 1:370


[page 370:]


THERE is a form before me now,

A spirit with a peerless brow,

And locks of gold that lightly lie,

Like clouds on the air of a sunset sky,

And a glittering eye, whose beauty blends

With more than mortal tenderness,

As bright a ray as Heaven sends

To light those orbs, where the pure and blest

Are taking their eternal rest.

Sweet Spirit! thou hast stolen afar

From thy home in yonder crystal Star, [column 2:]

That I might look on thee, and bless

Thy kindness and thy loveliness.


How oft against these prison bars

I have leaned my head, and gazed for hours

Upon the wonder-telling stars;

Thinking, if in their sinless bowers

The memory of this planet dim

E‘er mingles with thy blissful dream.

And when low winds were stealing by,

I have sometimes closed my weary eye;

And fancied the sigh that was silently stealing

Through my damp hair, was thine own breathing:

Then would I lay me down upon

This carpetless cold flinty stone,

And pray — how long! how fervently!

To look on thee once more and die.





[S:0 - SLM, 1835] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Rejected - Extract from an Unfinished Poem