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Fairy-Land by Edgar Allan Poe

Analysis

"Fairy-Land" was originally titled "Heaven," and was written while Poe was still at West Point. It wasn't until the September 1829 issue of The Yankee and Boston Literary Gazette. Of course, the journal's owner introduced it as "nonsense", but praised Poe for having great promise as a writer.

The journals introduction was as follows: "If E. A. P. of Baltimore - whose lines about 'Heaven,' though he professes to regard them as altogether superior to any thing in the whole range of American poetry, save two or three trifles referred to, are, though nonsense, rather exquisite nonsense - would but do himself justice, might make a beautiful and perhaps magnificent poem. There is a good deal to justify such a hope."

This poem speaks of a "fairy land" which sounds a lot like real life. It speaks mainly about the moon moving across they sky and then the sun coming up and doing the same.

Poem

Fairy-Land
By 

Dim vales- and shadowy floods-
And cloudy-looking woods,
Whose forms we can't discover
For the tears that drip all over!
Huge moons there wax and wane-
Again- again- again-
Every moment of the night-
Forever changing places-
And they put out the star-light
With the breath from their pale faces.
About twelve by the moon-dial,
One more filmy than the rest
(A kind which, upon trial,
They have found to be the best)
Comes down- still down- and down,
With its centre on the crown
Of a mountain's eminence,
While its wide circumference
In easy drapery falls
Over hamlets, over halls,
Wherever they may be-
O'er the strange woods- o'er the sea-
Over spirits on the wing-
Over every drowsy thing-
And buries them up quite
In a labyrinth of light-
And then, how deep!- O, deep!
Is the passion of their sleep.
In the morning they arise,
And their moony covering
Is soaring in the skies,
With the tempests as they toss,
Like- almost anything-
Or a yellow Albatross.
They use that moon no more
For the same end as before-
Videlicet, a tent-
Which I think extravagant:
Its atomies, however,
Into a shower dissever,
Of which those butterflies
Of Earth, who seek the skies,
And so come down again,
(Never-contented things!)
Have brought a specimen
Upon their quivering wings.

Written in .

Next: The Happiest Day, The Happiest Hour
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Nationality
American

Literary Movement
Romanticism, 19th Century

Subjects
Life, Religion