Wednesday, June 30, 2010

AL AARAAF by Edgar Allan Poe


which leaps down the to the flower,
And dances again
In the rhythm of the shower__
The murmur that springs
From the growing of grass
Are the music of the things__
But are modell'd. alas!__
Away,then, my dearest,
Oh! hie thee away
To springs that lie clearest
Beneath he moon-ray__
To lone lake that smiles,
In its dream of deep rest,
At the many star-isles
That enjewel its breast__
Where wild flowers, creeping,
Have mingled their shade,
On its margin is sleeping
Full many a maid__
Some have left the cool glade, and
Have slept with the bee__
Arouse them, my maiden,
On moorland and lea__
Go! breath on their slumber,
All softly in ear,
The musical number
They slumber'd to hear__
for what can awaken
An angel so soon
whose sleep hath been taken
Beneath the cold moon,
As the spell Which no slumber
Of witchery may test,

I met with this idea in an old English tale, which I am now unable to obtain, and quote from memory.__"The verie essence and, as it were, springe-heade and origine of all musiche is the verie pleasaunte sounde which the trees of the forest do make when they growe."

The wild bee will not sleep in the shade if there be moonlight.
The rhyme in this verse, as in one about sixty lines before, has an appearance of affectation. It is, however, imitated from Sir W. Scott, or rather from Claud Halcro__in whose mouth I admired its effect:

Oh ! were there an island,
Tho' ever so wild
Where woman might smile, and
No man be beguil'd etc.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful painting! I love the flower and butterfly side by side, like soul mates!