Verse > Anthologies > Harriet Monroe, ed. > Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, 1912–22
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Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936).  Poetry: A Magazine of Verse.  1912–22.
 
Edgar Allan Poe
By DuBose Heyward
 
From “Charleston Poems”

ONCE in the starlight
  When the tides were low,
And the surf fell sobbing
  To the undertow,
I trod the windless dunes        5
  Alone with Edgar Poe.
 
Dim and far behind us,
  Like a fabled bloom
On the myrtle thickets,
  In the swaying gloom        10
Hung the clustered windows
  Of the barrack-room.
 
Faint on the evening,
  Tenuous and far
As the beauty shaken        15
  From a vagrant star,
Throbbed the ache and passion
  Of an old guitar.
 
Life closed behind us
  Like a swinging gate,        20
Leaving us unfettered
  And emancipate;
Confidants of Destiny,
  Intimates of Fate.
 
I could only cower        25
  Silent, while the night,
Seething with its planets,
  Parted to our sight,
Showing as infinity
  In its breadth and height.        30
 
But my chosen comrade,
  Tossing back his hair
With the old loved gesture,
  Raised his face, and there
Shone that agony that those        35
  Loved of God must bear.
 
Oh, we heard the many things
  Silence has to say—
He and I together
  As alone we lay        40
Waiting for the slow sweet
  Miracle of day.
 
When the bugle’s silver
  Spiralled up the dawn
Dew-clear, night-cool,        45
  And the stars were gone,
I arose exultant,
  Like a man new-born.
 
But my friend and master,
  Heavy-limbed and spent,        50
Turned, as one must turn at last
  From the sacrament;
And his eyes were deep with God’s
  Burning discontent.
 
 
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