To Marie Louise (Shew)
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.
This poem is in the public domain.
About this Poem
From The Works of Edgar Allan Poe in Five Volumes: The Raven Edition (P.F. Collier, 1902)
Edgar Allan Poe
Born in 1809, Edgar Allan Poe had a profound impact on American and international literature as an editor, poet, and critic.
Date Published: 2018-07-25
Source URL: https://poets.org/poem/marie-louise-shew