Lenore by Edgar Allan Poe
"Lenore" is a poem written by Edgar Allan Poe. It was first published under the title "A Pæan" in 1831, but was only 11 quatrains and did not include the named "Lenore". It wasn't until the publication in February 1843 in The Pioneer that the revisions were seen. It was continually revised and republished throughout his lifetime.
This poem is about the death of Lenore, a young woman who died too young. It talks about how the narrator loved her for her wealth but hated how proud she was. It is basically a grief poem.
This writing consists of four stanzas of varying lengths. The poem rhymes in couplets (if there is an extra line, it rhymes with the couplets).
Lenore Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll!- a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river; And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?- weep now or nevermore! See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore! Come! let the burial rite be read- the funeral song be sung!- An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young- A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young. "Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride, And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her- that she died! How shall the ritual, then, be read?- the requiem how be sung By you- by yours, the evil eye,- by yours, the slanderous tongue That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?" Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong. The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside, Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride. For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies, The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes The life still there, upon her hair- the death upon her eyes. "Avaunt! avaunt! from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven- From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven- From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of Heaven! Let no bell toll, then,- lest her soul, amid its hallowed mirth, Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damned Earth! And I!- to-night my heart is light!- no dirge will I upraise, But waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!" Published in 1843.
Next: The Raven
Find out more information about this poem and read others like it.
Romanticism, 19th Century
Death, Love, Grief