Text: Anonymous, “Death of Edgar A. Poe,” Richards’ Weekly Gazette (Athens, GA), October 20, 1849, second year, no. 25, whole no. 75, p. 3, col. 2

[page 3, column 2:]

Since our last, we have received the melancholy intelligence of the death of Edgar A. Poe, which occurred in Baltimore on the 7th inst. Mr. Poe was only thirty-eight years old. Thus, in the prime of his manhood, another of the “Children of Song” has suffered the transition we are wont to call death! On the shores of Time, his fingers will wake for us the music of his wondrous harp — “Nevermore.”

It is hardly necessary to say of the author of “The Raven” and “Ulalume,” that he was a man of genius. Even those who have been most severe in their strictures upon him and his productions, and who most dislike his transcendental extravagancies, will admit this. That his literary productions are marked and marred by striking faults, his most ardent admirers will as readily acknowledge. But, with all their faults, it is evident that they have won for their author an enviable reputation, as a writer — Their faults and their merits are alike original and peculiar.

It is to be regretted that Mr. Poe’s powers were so often misdirected and misemployed. With his genius, learning and taste, combined with great artistic skill and extraordinary powers of analysis, he might, it would seem, have left behind him works that would have placed him in the front rank of American writers. As it is, he has written things that will not be forgotten.

Mr. Poe is said to have been as remarkable for his acquirements, as for his genius, and to have been a man of fine conversational powers, polished manners, and warm and amiable impulses. But with all the exalted powers of transcendent genius, he possessed also the faults and frailties which too often attend them; but over these we will cast the veil of charity, remembering him only as a Scholar, a Critic, and a Poet.