Edgar Allan Poe – To Marie Louise

— — —
“Not long ago, the writer of these lines,
In the mad pride of intellectuality,
Maintained the “Power of Words” — denied that ever
A thought arose within the human brain
Beyond the utterance of the human tongue“
— — —

“To Marie Louise” is a poem written by Edgar Allan Poe for Mrs. Marie Louise Shew, Virginia’s nurse and a friend of Poe’s. The original manuscript was lost but a tracing was made by J.H. Ingram.

This article features a complete, embedded, mobile-friendly version of “To Marie Louise“ by Edgar Allan Poe as well as a text version below.

To Marie Louise – PDF

A PDF copy of “To Marie Louise” can be downloaded using the menu in the app below.

To Marie Louise – Mobile Friendly

— — —

To Marie Louise
by
Edgar Allan Poe

— — —

Not long ago, the writer of these lines,
In the mad pride of intellectuality,
Maintained the “Power of Words” — denied that ever
A thought arose within the human brain
Beyond the utterance of the human tongue:
And now, as if in mockery of that boast,
Two words — two foreign, soft dissyllables —
Two gentle sounds made only to be murmured
By angels dreaming in the moon-lit “dew
That hangs like chains of pearl on Hermon hill”
Have stirred from out the abysses of his heart
Unthought-like thoughts — scarcely the shades of thought —
Bewildering fantasies — far richer visions
Than even the seraph harper, Israfel,
Who “had the sweetest voice of all God’s creatures”,
Would hope to utter. Ah, Marie Louise!
In deep humility I own that now
All pride — all thought of power — all hope of fame —
All wish for Heaven — is merged forevermore
Beneath the palpitating tide of passion
Heaped o’er my soul by thee. Its spells are broken —
The pen falls powerless from my shivering hand —
With that dear name as text I cannot write —
I cannot speak — I cannot even think —
Alas! I cannot feel; for ’tis not feeling —
This standing motionless upon the golden
Threshold of the wide-open gate of Dreams,
Gazing, entranced, adown the gorgeous vista,
And thrilling as I see upon the right —
Upon the left — and all the way along,
Amid the clouds of glory, far away
To where the prospect terminates — thee only.