The City In The Sea by Edgar Allan Poe

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The City In The Sea

The City in the Sea by Edgar Allan Poe

Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.

No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently-
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-
Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-
Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.

There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol’s diamond eye-
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass-
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea-
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.

But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide-
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.

Here’s the audio, as narrated by Mister Jim Moon:

The City In The Sea was published in this form in the Broadway Journal, August 30, 1845:

The City In The Sea: A Prophecy by Edgar Allan Poe

The City In The Sea

Posted by Jesse Willis

Dark Waters by M. Ludington Cain

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First published in Famous Fantastic Mysteries, October 1947, this poem has never been reprinted.

Dark Waters
by M. Ludington Cain

The spring moon swells the river,
The Waters clutch like hands
Where willow branches quiver
Above the pebbly sands.

But no moon knows the secret
The swirling waters keep,
And whether the moon is new or full
The waters are dark and deep.

The summer moonlight lingers
On shimmering grasses there,
The zephyr’s gentle fingers
Comb out their shining hair….

But no moon saw the gypsies come,
And no moon saw them go,
And only the midnight shadows
Guess what the waters know-

Some say there was a lover,
Some say there was a child,
But whatever the shadows cover,
The waters are dark and wild.

Dark Waters by M. Ludington Cain - from Famous Fantastic Mysteries, October 1947

Listen to Mister Jim Moon‘s reading of it: |MP3|

And here’s a |PDF|.

Posted by Jesse Willis

Death by Clarence E. Flynn

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First published in Famous Fantastic Mysteries, October 1947, this short poem has never been reprinted.

DEATH
by Clarence E. Flynn

Why do you fear me?
I am your friend.
I but guide trav’lers
Rounding the bend-
Lead them to freedom
From time and age,
Help them start writing
On a new page….

Seek for me never,
Keep your course true-
When I am needed
I’ll come to you,
Then I will show you
Roads without end-
Why do you fear me?
I am your friend.

Death by Clarence E. Flynn - from Famous Fantastic Mysteries, October 1947

Listen to Mister Jim Moon‘s reading of it: |MP3|

Posted by Jesse Willis

Man And The Cosmos by August Derleth

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Man And The Cosmos by August W. Derleth

I discovered Man And The Cosmos by August Derleth, a poem from the cosmicist school of poetry, languishing in the pages of Wonder Stories, April 1935. According to ISFDB it has never been reprinted. When Derleth wrote it he was talking about what he thought would come. Today, at this very moment, people are up there on the International Space Station, living it.

Man and the Cosmos
By August W. Derleth

Death lies athwart the frozen dark
Where never the song of a lark
Has echoed; here breeds the unknown spawn
Of evil, here where there is no dawn.

None but man deserts the light
For probing in this endless night;
None but he dares the icy breath
Of the lurking cosmic death.

Only a tiny atom of flesh
Webbed in an unanswerable mesh
Of questions and burning doubt,
Wanting to known what Life’s about.

And, the generous Mr. Jim Moon, of the Hypnobobs podcast, has today recorded it for our listening pleasure.

|MP3|

[Thanks Jim!]

Posted by Jesse Willis

Poem Talk: Discussion of Dream-Land by Edgar Allan Poe

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Poem TalkOne of my favourite poems, and one of my favourite Edgar Allan Poe poems, Dream-Land, gets an all too brief half-hour discussion (a close reading) by the folks at the Poem Talk podcast (episode #48). When I talk about this poem with my students it usually takes between 45 minutes and an hour.

Podcast December 19, 2011, it was hosted by Al Filreis and featurd John Timpane, Thomas Devaney, and Jerome McGann. The official shownotes are HERE.

|MP3|.

Posted by Jesse Willis

The Raft-Builders by Lord Dunsany

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The Raft-Builders by Lord Dunsany

Maureen O’Brien, of the Maria Lectrix podcast, reads the prose poem The Raft-Builders by Lord Dunsany:

|MP3|

First published in the December 18, 1909 issue of Saturday Review.

Here’s the entire text:

The Raft-Builders by Lord Dunsany

‘All we who write put me in mind of sailors hastily making rafts upon doomed ships.

When we break up under the heavy years and go down into eternity with all that is ours our thoughts like small lost rafts float on awhile upon Oblivion’s sea. They will not carry much over those tides, our names and a phrase or two and little else.

They that write as a trade to please the whim of the day, they are like sailors that work at the rafts only to warm their hands and to distract their thoughts from their certain doom; their rafts go all to pieces before the ship breaks up.

See now Oblivion shimmering all around us, its very tranquility deadlier than tempest. How little all our keels have troubled it. Time in its deeps swims like a monstrous whale; and, like a whale, feeds on the littlest things–small tunes and little unskilled songs of the olden, golden evenings–and anon turneth whale-like to overthrow whole ships.

See now the wreckage of Babylon floating idly, and something there that once was Nineveh; already their kings and queens are in the deeps among the weedy masses of old centuries that hide the sodden bulk of sunken Tyre and make a darkness round Persepolis.

For the rest I dimly see the forms of foundered ships on the sea-floor strewn with crowns.

Our ships were all unseaworthy from the first.

There goes the raft that Homer made for Helen’.

Posted by Jesse Willis