Text: Edgar Allan Poe (ed. E. C. Stedman and G. E. Woodberry), “An Enigma,” The Works of Edgar Allan PoeVol. X: Poems (1895), 10:83


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[page 83:]

AN ENIGMA

SELDOM we find,” says Solomon Don Dunce,

“Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet.

Through all the flimsy things we see at once

As easily as through a Naples bonnet —

Trash of all trash! how can a lady don it?

Yet heavier far than your Petrarchan stuff,

Owl-downy nonsense that the faintest puff

Twirls into trunk-paper the while you con it.”

And, veritably, Sol is right enough.

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The general tuckermanities are arrant

Bubbles, ephemeral and so transparent;

But this is, now, you may depend upon it,

Stable, opaque, immortal — all by dint

Of the dear names that lie concealed within ’t.

 


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Notes:

None.

 

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[S:0 - SW94, 1895] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - An Enigma (Stedman and Woodberry, 1895)