Text: Edgar Allan Poe, “Israfel” (Study Text - RAOP-JLG)


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Texts Represented:


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[page 16:]

Title: ISRAFEL.*

Rule: ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Line-01-001 IN Heaven a spirit doth dwell

Line-01-002 [[indent]] “Whose heart-strings are a lute;”

Line-01-003 None sing so wildly well

Line-01-004 As the angel Israfel,

Line-01-005 And the giddy stars (so legends tell)

Line-01-006 Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell

Line-01-007 [[indent]] Of his voice, all mute.

Line-01-008 Tottering above

Line-01-009 [[indent]] In her highest noon,

Line-01-010 [[indent]] The enamoured moon

Line-01-011 Blushes with love,

Line-01-012 [[indent]] While, to listen, the red levin

Line-01-013 [[indent]] (With the rapid Pleiads, even,

Line-01-014 [[indent]] Which were seven,)

Line-01-015 [[indent]] Pauses in Heaven.

Line-01-016 And they say (the starry choir

Line-01-017 [[indent]] And the other listening things)

Line-01-018 That Israfeli's fire

Line-01-019 Is owing to that lyre

Line-01-020 [[indent]] By which he sits and sings —

Line-01-021 The trembling living wire

Line-01-022 Of those unusual strings. [page 17:]

Line-01-023 But the skies that angel trod,

Line-01-024 [[indent]] Where deep thoughts are a duty —

Line-01-025 Where Love's a {{1845-01: grown up //1849-02: grown-up }} God —

Line-01-026 [[indent]] Where the Houri glances are

Line-01-027 Imbued with all the beauty

Line-01-028 [[indent]] Which we worship in a star.

Line-01-029 Therefore, thou art not wrong,

Line-01-030 [[indent]] Israfeli, who despisest

Line-01-031 An unimpassioned song;

Line-01-032 To thee the laurels belong,

Line-01-033 [[indent]] Best bard, because the wisest!

Line-01-034 Merrily live, and long!

Line-01-035 The ecstasies above

Line-01-036 [[indent]] With thy burning measures suit —

Line-01-037 Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,

Line-01-038 [[indent]] With the fervour of thy lute —

Line-01-039 [[indent]] Well may the stars be mute!

Line-01-040 Yes, Heaven is thine; but this

Line-01-041 [[indent]] Is a world of sweets and sours;

Line-01-042 [[indent]] Our flowers are merely — flowers,

Line-01-043 And the shadow of thy perfect bliss

Line-01-044 [[indent]] Is the sunshine of ours.

Line-01-045 If I could dwell

Line-01-046 Where Israfel

Line-01-047 [[indent]] Hath dwelt, and he where I,

Line-01-048 He might not sing so wildly well

Line-01-049 [[indent]] A mortal melody,

Line-01-050 While a bolder note than this might swell

Line-01-051 [[indent]] From my lyre within the sky.


[[Footnotes]]

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 16:]

*And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures. — KORAN.


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[[Alternate presentation giving the text as originally printed, with indications for Poe's changes]]

[page 16:]

ISRAFEL.*

~~~~~~~~~~~

IN Heaven a spirit doth dwell

“Whose heart-strings are a lute;”

None sing so wildly well

As the angel Israfel,

And the giddy stars (so legends tell)

Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell

Of his voice, all mute.

Tottering above

In her highest noon,

The enamoured moon

Blushes with love,

While, to listen, the red levin

(With the rapid Pleiads, even,

Which were seven,)

Pauses in Heaven.

And they say (the starry choir

And the other listening things)

That Israfeli's fire

Is owing to that lyre

By which he sits and sings —

The trembling living wire

Of those unusual strings. [page 17:]

But the skies that angel trod,

Where deep thoughts are a duty —

Where Love's a grown<^>up God —   <->

Where the Houri glances are

Imbued with all the beauty

Which we worship in a star.

Therefore, thou art not wrong,

Israfeli, who despisest

An unimpassioned song;

To thee the laurels belong,

Best bard, because the wisest!

Merrily live, and long!

The ecstasies above

With thy burning measures suit —

Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,

With the fervour of thy lute —

Well may the stars be mute!

Yes, Heaven is thine; but this

Is a world of sweets and sours;

Our flowers are merely — flowers,

And the shadow of thy perfect bliss

Is the sunshine of ours.

If I could dwell

Where Israfel

Hath dwelt, and he where I,

He might not sing so wildly well

A mortal melody,

While a bolder note than this might swell

From my lyre within the sky.


[[Footnotes]]

[The following footnote appears at the bottom of page 16:]

*And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures. — KORAN.


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Notes:

For an explanation of the formatting used in this Study Text, see editorial policies and methods. This format is very much an experiment, particularly for poetry. For the version with changes applied, see the full poem.

Because Poe's changes here are made in his own copy of The Raven and other Poems, the pagination of that edition has been retained in the present text.


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[S:0 - comparative] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Poems - Israfel (Study Text - RAOP-JLG)