Text: Anonymous, “The Late Edgar A. Poe,” Raleigh Times (Raleigh, NC), November 2, 1849, p. 2, col. 3

[page 2, column 3, continued:]

THE LATE EDGAR A. POE.

We publish a very remarkable Poem by this lamented Child of Genius, which will doubtless attract the reader's attention. The premature fate of this gifted American, may well be deplored by every admirer of high literary merit, who has ever felt the charm of the peculiar, but sombre and unique fascination which the Muse of Poe threw around every subject he touched. There was that of wild abandonment to a melancholy and cherished sorrow, — of gloomy resentment, if not defiance, of the world and its smiles, which developed the temper brooding over crushed hopes and vanished dreams; covered by the dark pall of disappointment and despair; and only lighted by the fitful inspiration of the poetic hour.

But with all our admiration for his genius, and sorrow for his untimely fate, we are not of those who would shield the imperfections of his character, or hide from the eye of the world the solemn warning taught by his hurried end. Had he listened to the whispers of prudence, and the advice of his earliest and best friends, the afflictive dispensation which cut him off might have been averted, perhaps for years. During the past summer, he had visited the home of his boyhood; and under the influence of better feelings and associations, had renounced the Winecup and the treacherous bowl, and united himself with the Sons of Temperance. Alas! for the stability of man's resolutions, when steady firmness is wanting in his character. The erratic Child of Song left for his home in the North — but was not proof against the blandishments of his old acquaintances whom he met in Baltimore. The melancholy story is soon told — and the Son of Poetry became once more the slave, and finally the victim, of the potent demon who lurks within the brimming cup!

We lack language properly to enforce the solemn lesson. But the brightest genius and the highest fame — the loftiest rank and station — have, ere now, fallen as low as he : and from lung years of dust and ashes, their sad fate still warns the gay and heedless of the certain termination of the path they tread in lowly shame, and palpable, though it may be gilded, dishonor. But we have thought this prominent, recent, and most melancholy fate of one whose bright intellect, but a few ago, promised yet higher and brighter fame to encircle his brow, and illumine his character — but who swerved from his resolution and broke his vow, and extinguished at once the light of genius and honorable manhood — might well beheld up to the gaze of all the young, ardent, and aspiring, in the hope that a salutary lesson might be read, pondered oh, felt, and heeded.