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[page 480, column 2, continued:]
BY EDGAR A. POE.
SCIENCE, meet daughter of old time thou art,
Who alterest all things with thy piercing eyes!
Why pray'st [[prey'st]] thou thus upon thy poet's heart —
Vulture, whose wings are dull realities!
How shall he love thee, or how deem thee wise,
Who wouldst not leave him in his wandering,
To seek for treasure in the jewell'd skies,
Albeit he soar with an undaunted wing.
Hast thou not dragg'd Diana from her car,
And driven the Hamadryad from the wood,
To seek for shelter in some happier star,
The gentle Nais from the fountain flood.
The elfin from the greenwood and from me,
The summer's dream beneath the shrubbery.
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Notes:
This reprint of the poem was taken, without acknowledgment, from the Saturday Evening Post. In the original, there are no blank lines between the title, byline, and first line of the poem, evidently squeezed to save space.
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[S:1 - Casket, 1830] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Poems - Sonnet — To Science [reprint]