Sure thou art come o’er far-off seas,
     A wonder to these garden trees! Strange is thy pallor! strange thy dress! Strange, above all, thy length of tress,
     And this all solemn silentness! The lady sleeps! Oh, may her sleep,
     Which is enduring, so be deep! Heaven have her in its sacred keep! This chamber changed for one more holy,
     This bed for one more melancholy,
     I pray to God that she may lie
     Forever with unopened eye,
     While the dim sheeted ghosts go by! My love, she sleeps! Oh, may her sleep,
     As it is lasting, so be deep! Soft may the worms about her creep! Far in the forest, dim and old,
     For her may some tall vault unfold—
     Some vault that oft hath flung its black
     And wingèd panels fluttering back,
     Triumphant, o’er the crested palls,
     Of her grand family funerals—
     Some sepulchre, remote, alone,
     Against whose portal she hath thrown,
     In childhood, many an idle stone—
     Some tomb from out whose sounding door
     She ne’er shall force an echo more,
     Thrilling to think, poor child of sin! It was the dead who groaned within. 1845. BRIDAL BALLAD. THE ring is on my hand,
         And the wreath is on my brow;
     Satins and jewels grand
     Are all at my command,
         And I am happy now. And my lord he loves me well;
         But, when first he breathed his vow,
     I felt my bosom swell—
     For the words rang as a knell,
     And the voice seemed _his_ who fell
     In the battle down the dell,
         And who is happy now. But he spoke to reasure me,
         And he kissed my pallid brow,
     While a reverie came o’er me,
     And to the church-yard bore me,
     And I sighed to him before me,
     Thinking him dead D’Elormie,
         “Oh, I am happy now!”

     And thus the words were spoken,
         And thus the plighted vow,
     And, though my faith be broken,
     And, though my heart be broken,
     Behold the golden token
         That _proves_ me happy now! Would to God I could awaken! For I dream I know not how,
     And my soul is sorely shaken
     Lest an evil step be taken,—
     Lest the dead who is forsaken
         May not be happy now. 1845. NOTES


      1. “The Raven” was first published on the 29th January, 1845, in the New
      York “Evening Mirror”-a paper its author was then assistant editor of. It
      was prefaced by the following words, understood to have been written by N.
      P. Willis: “We are permitted to copy (in advance of publication) from the
      second number of the “American Review,” the following remarkable poem by
      Edgar Poe. In our opinion, it is the most effective single example of
      ‘fugitive poetry’ ever published in this country, and unsurpassed in
      English poetry for subtle conception, masterly ingenuity of versification,
      and consistent sustaining of imaginative lift and ‘pokerishness.’ It is
      one of those ‘dainties bred in a book’ which we feed on. It will stick to
      the memory of everybody who reads it.” In the February number of the
      “American Review” the poem was published as by “Quarles,” and it was
      introduced by the following note, evidently suggested if not written by
      Poe himself. [“The following lines from a correspondent-besides the deep, quaint strain
      of the sentiment, and the curious introduction of some ludicrous touches
      amidst the serious and impressive, as was doubtless intended by the
      author-appears to us one of the most felicitous specimens of unique
      rhyming which has for some time met our eye. The resources of English
      rhythm for varieties of melody, measure, and sound, producing
      corresponding diversities of effect, having been thoroughly studied, much
      more perceived, by very few poets in the language. While the classic
      tongues, especially the Greek, possess, by power of accent, several
      advantages for versification over our own, chiefly through greater
      abundance of spondaic feet, we have other and very great advantages of
      sound by the modern usage of rhyme. Alliteration is nearly the only effect
      of that kind which the ancients had in common with us. It will be seen
      that much of the melody of ‘The Raven’ arises from alliteration, and the
      studious use of similar sounds in unusual places. In regard to its
      measure, it may be noted that if all the verses were like the second, they
      might properly be placed merely in short lines, producing a not uncommon
      form; but the presence in all the others of one line-mostly the second in
      the verse” (stanza? )—“which flows continuously, with only an
      aspirate pause in the middle, like that before the short line in the
      Sapphic Adonic, while the fifth has at the middle pause no similarity of
      sound with any part besides, gives the versification an entirely different
      effect. We could wish the capacities of our noble language in prosody were
      better understood.”—ED. “Am. Rev.”]

      2. The bibliographical history of “The Bells” is curious. The subject, and
      some lines of the original version, having been suggested by the poet’s
      friend, Mrs. Shew, Poe, when he wrote out the first draft of the poem,
      headed it, “The Bells, By Mrs. M. A. Shew.” This draft, now the editor’s
      property, consists of only seventeen lines, and read thus:

                       I. The bells!-ah, the bells! The little silver bells! How fairy-like a melody there floats
     From their throats—
     From their merry little throats—
     From the silver, tinkling throats
     Of the bells, bells, bells—
     Of the bells! II. The bells!-ah, the bells! The heavy iron bells! How horrible a monody there floats
     From their throats—
     From their deep-toned throats—
     From their melancholy throats! How I shudder at the notes Of the bells, bells, bells—
     Of the bells! In the autumn of 1848 Poe added another line to this poem, and sent it to
      the editor of the “Union Magazine.” It was not published. So, in the
      following February, the poet forwarded to the same periodical a much
      enlarged and altered transcript. Three months having elapsed without
      publication, another revision of the poem, similar to the current version,
      was sent, and in the following October was published in the “Union
      Magazine.”


      3. This poem was first published in Colton’s “American Review” for
      December, 1847, as “To—Ulalume: a Ballad.” Being reprinted
      immediately in the “Home Journal,” it was copied into various publications
      with the name of the editor, N. P. Willis, appended, and was ascribed to
      him.