網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版

NOTES.

[merged small][merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

o. q. m.

o. a. s. 1.

cap.

[ocr errors]

Omit comma or commas.
Omit hyphen.

Omit dash.

Omit quotation marks.

Omit accent.

Small letter.

Capital.

i. - Italics.

n. i.- Not italics.

[blocks in formation]

1840, 1843, 1845, refer to the editions of those dates.

(126)

NOTES.

TAMERLANE.

Page 1.

1827, 1829, 1831, 1845.

Text, 1845.

The earliest form, being widely different from the text, is given below. See also Appendix, "Poe and John Neal."

TAMERLANE.

I.

I HAVE sent for thee, holy friar; (')
But 't was not with the drunken hope,
Which is but agony of desire

To shun the fate, with which to cope
Is more than crime may dare to dream,
That I have call'd thee at this hour:
Such, father, is not my theme —
Nor am I mad, to deem that power
Of earth may shrive me of the sin
Unearthly pride hath revell'd in-
I would not call thee fool, old man,
But hope is not a gift of thine;
If I can hope (O God! I can)
It falls from an eternal shrine.

II.

The gay wall of this gaudy tower

Grows dim around me

death is near.

I had not thought, until this hour
When passing from the earth, that ear
Of any, were it not the shade
Of one whom in life I made
All mystery but a simple name,
Might know the secret of a spirit
Bow'd down in sorrow, and in shame.
Shame, said'st thou ?

Ay, I did inherit That hated portion, with the fame, The worldly glory, which has shown' A demon-light around my throne, Scorching my sear'd heart with a pain Not Hell shall make me fear again.

III.

I have not always been as now -
The fever'd diadem on my brow
I claim'd and won usurpingly -
Ay

the same heritage hath given
Rome to the Cæsar- this to me;
The heirdom of a kingly mind
And a proud spirit, which hath striven
Triumphantly with human kind.

In mountain air I first drew life ;
The mists of the Taglay have shed (3)
Nightly their dews on my young head;
And my brain drank their venom then,
When after day of perilous strife
With chamois, I would seize his den
And slumber, in my pride of power,
The infant monarch of the hour-
For, with the mountain dew by night,
1 Shone?

« 上一頁繼續 »