Where now doth that proud spirit dwell,

Whose earthly days were clouded o'er with gloom?

In regions with the sweet-voiced "Israfel,"

Where never-fading flowerets bloom?

Dost rest within some "distant Aidenn,

Beyond the Night's Plutonian shore?

And clasp again a sainted maiden

Whom the angels name Lenore?"

Yes, "echo through the corridors of Time"

Will have a tone that ages yet will know,

And blend with all that's beautiful—sublime—

The deathless name of Edgar Allan Poe!

[Pg 29]

[Pg 29]

A BARREN "IDEALTY."

This song that I sing—

It is not of a spring,

Nor yet of a silvery stream—

But of a vision bright

Which came last night

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