St Ignatius College - Ignatian Yearbook (San Francisco, CA)

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inning., 30 THE IGNATIAN and spirit of the piece, has entered into all those finer fancies and deeper feelings with which Poe must have been inspired, and he has made a setting of sad and lingering love with dreams of fearsome sublimity that should heighten our ap- preciation of any such piece of literature. Another poem famous for its variety of musical lines is The Bells. In the first stanza the bells tinkle out a sprightly merriment while they hurry us swiftly over frozen fields under the studded canopy of night. The second with its mellow How deals with true happiness and love. We are all familiar with the brazen and terrifying fire bells of the third stanza, producing much of sound and little of thought. This and the last stanza bring to a rather sombre hnish a poem that starts out so delightfully frolicsome. Poe shows himself in this wonderful piece to be a master of words. The chief ornaments of Annabel Lee, the poem of sweet- ness, are the unvarnished graces of naturalness and simplicity. Neither is music wanting. Note the running melody of the following lines: And neither the angels in heaven Nor the demons down under the sea Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee. Here alliteration is displayed in its most universal connection conveying the poet's sweet sadness to those who are capable of its reception. For those who have eyes to see and ears to hear, this line: In a kingdom by the sea, contains a world of poetic suggestiong it makes sweet pictures float before the eye of the imagination, and flings out sweeter music to accompany its fairy dream. But Poe was criticized in his dayg what writer of note has not beenlby his smaller contemporaries, lesser lights whom Elie .burning of the brighter planet turns pale-which they egiudge, becoming splenetic. Still the poet had always I even through llfe. a large circle of friends and admirers,

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THE POETRY OF POE 29 in the piece, though criticized by some, manifests a highly imaginative power. Poe dwells here with phantoms that Hit about like bats in the darkness-he is occupied with shadows, not natural shadows suggestive of substance and light, but spectral shadows coming we know not from where, and caused we know not by what. An instance of this is where the raven, resting on the bust of Pallas, throws its shadow to the floor instead of on the ceiling where it should properly belong. The narrative is familiar. There the man sits in his study, pondering, doubting, dreaming of his life associate deceased. His heart is torn with sorrow, his mind stunned with fear. There is a stirring of the curtains, and a tapping at the door. Finding no cause for these mysterious dis- turbances that set his heart thumping, he settles down againgto dream, when the tapping is repeated on the lattice of the window. He flings it open, and in there Hutters a raven-the symbol of despair-and perches on a bust of Pallas above the door. A colloquy follows between the dreamer and the bird, filled with horror, but glowing with the thought of his lost one. Remove the slight veil of obscurity that cloaks these verses, and there is revealed the lovable character of our poet. This beautiful nature existed in the man: it was but burdened down by hard trials and rude bereavements. And here there come to mind those immortal illustrations of Dore. This artist has added to the prestige of the poem, if that were possible, by including it in those works of liter- ature touched by his sublime pencil. If one would drink deeply of the spirit of The Ravenf' let him Hrst carefully read the poem, then let him take up the illustrations and study them ponderingly. VVith the impressions thus gained still fresh in his memory, let him go over the piece thoroughly again-an impression will be made on his mind that time will not ea-sily erase. For Dore has caught the very heart

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- A KIND WORD 31 who pitied his misfortunes and lauded his pen. One of these writes, I can sincerely say that although I have frequently heard of aberrations on his part from the straight and narrow path, I have never known him otherwise than gentle, well bred, and fastidiously refined. One thing, however, is cer- tain, that although many of the early critics of Edgar Allen Poe, themselves while alive aspiring to an author's immortal- ity, have sunk beneath time's wide horizon never to reappear, the poetry of this somewhat meteoric genius and wandering star have been more than sufficient to enlist the sympathy of mankind and to perpetuate his fame. A iltlinh math By CAROLAN S. CRONIN Y Twas a Word in kindness spoken, To a heart near spent with grief. Twas a word in kindness spoken, To a soul that sought relief In the hour of trial and pain. ! 'Twas a word in kindness spoken, And it comfort brought and rest. 'Twas a word in kindness spoken, And a suiTerer's heart it blest In the hour of trial and pain.