“Then I cursed the elements with the curse of
tumult; and a frightful tempest gathered in the heaven,
where before there had been no wind. And the
heaven became livid with the violence of the tempest—and
the rain beat upon the head of the man—and
the floods of the river came down—and the
river was tormented into foam—and the water-lilies
shrieked within their beds—and the forest
crumbled before the wind—and the thunder
rolled—and the lightning fell—and
the rock rocked to its foundation. And I lay
close within my covert and observed the actions of
the man. And the man trembled in the solitude;—but
the night waned, and he sat upon the rock.
“Then I grew angry and cursed, with the curse
of silence, the river, and the lilies, and the wind,
and the forest, and the heaven, and the thunder, and
the sighs of the water-lilies. And they became
accursed, and were still. And the moon ceased
to totter up its pathway to heaven—and
the thunder died away—and the lightning
did not flash—and the clouds hung motionless—and
the waters sunk to their level and remained—and
the trees ceased to rock—and the water-lilies
sighed no more—and the murmur was heard
no longer from among them, nor any shadow of sound
throughout the vast illimitable desert. And I
looked upon the characters of the rock, and they were
changed;—and the characters were SILENCE.
“And mine eyes fell upon the countenance of
the man, and his countenance was wan with terror.
And, hurriedly, he raised his head from his hand,
and stood forth upon the rock and listened. But
there was no voice throughout the vast illimitable
desert, and the characters upon the rock were SILENCE.
And the man shuddered, and turned his face away, and
fled afar off, in haste, so that I beheld him no more.”
...
Now there are fine tales in the volumes of the Magi—in
the iron-bound, melancholy volumes of the Magi.
Therein, I say, are glorious histories of the Heaven,
and of the Earth, and of the mighty Sea—and
of the Genii that overruled the sea, and the earth,
and the lofty heaven. There was much lore, too,
in the sayings which were said by the sybils; and holy,
holy things were heard of old by the dim leaves that
trembled around Dodona—but, as Allah liveth,
that fable which the demon told me as he sat by my
side in the shadow of the tomb, I hold to be the most
wonderful of all! And as the Demon made an end
of his story, he fell back within the cavity of the
tomb and laughed. And I could not laugh with
the Demon, and he cursed me because I could not laugh.
And the lynx which dwelleth forever in the tomb, came
out therefrom, and lay down at the feet of the Demon,
and looked at him steadily in the face.
* * * *
*
ESSAYS.
* * * *
*
THE POETIC PRINCIPLE.
Copyrights
Edgar Allan Poe's Complete Poetical Works from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
