∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
THANK Heaven! the crisis —
The danger is past,
And the lingering illness
Is over at last —
And the fever called “Living”
Is conquered at last.
[[v]]
Sadly, I know
I am shorn of my strength,
And no muscle I move
As I lie at full length —
But no matter! — I feel
I am better at length.
And I rest so composedly
Now, in my bed,
That any beholder
Might fancy me dead —
Might start at beholding me,
Thinking me dead.
The moaning and groaning,
The sighing and sobbing,
[[v]]
Are quieted now,
[[v]]
With that horrible throbbing
[[v]]
At heart: — Ah that horrible,
Horrible throbbing!
The sickness — the nausea —
The pitiless pain — [page 75:]
Have ceased with the fever
That maddened my brain —
With the fever called “Living”
That burned in my brain.
[[v]]
And oh! of all tortures
That torture the worst
Has abated — the terrible
Torture of thirst
For the naphthaline river
[[v]]
Of Passion accurst: —
I have drank of a water
That quenches all thirst: —
Of a water that flows,
With a lullaby sound,
[[v]]
From a spring but a very few
Feet under ground —
From a cavern not very far
Down under ground.
[[v]]
But ah! let it never
[[v]]
Be foolishly said
That my room it is gloomy
And narrow my bed;
For man never slept
In a different bed —
[[v]]
And, to sleep, you must slumber
In just such a bed.
[[v]]
My tantalized spirit
Here blandly reposes,
Forgetting, or never
Regretting, its roses — [page 76:]
Its old agitations
Of myrtles and roses:
For now, while so quietly
[[v]]
Lying, it fancies
[[v]]
A holier odor
[[v]]
About it, of pansies —
A rosemary odor,
[[v]]
Commingled with pansies —
With rue and the beautiful
Puritan pansies.
[[v]]
And so it lies happily,
Bathing in many
[[v]]
A dream of the truth
And the beauty of Annie —
Drowned in a bath
Of the tresses of Annie.
She tenderly kissed me,
She fondly caressed,
And then I fell gently
To sleep on her breast —
[[v]]
Deeply to sleep
[[v]]
From the heaven of her breast.
When the light was extinguished,
She covered me warm,
And she prayed to the angels
To keep me from harm —
To the queen of the angels
To shield me from harm. [page 77:]
And I lie so composedly,
Now, in my bed,
[[v]]
(Knowing her love)
That you fancy me dead —
And I rest so contentedly,
Now, in my bed,
(With her love at my breast)
That you fancy me dead —
That you shudder to look at me,
Thinking me dead: —
But my heart it is brighter
Than all of the many
[[v]]
Stars in the sky,
For it sparkles with Annie —
[[v]]
It glows with the light
Of the love of my Annie —
With the thought of the light
Of the eyes of my Annie.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Notes:
None.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
[S:0 - JHW11, 1911] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - For Annie (ed. J. H. Whitty, 1911)