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Sarah Helen Whitman

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Sarah Helen Power Whitman (January 19, 1803June 27, 1878) was a poet, essayist, transcendentalist, Spiritualist and a romantic interest of Edgar Allan Poe.

Quotes

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Poems (Boston: Houghton, Osgood and Company, 1879)
Enchantress of the stormy seas,
Priestess of Night's high mysteries.
  • When summer gathers up her robes of glory,
    And, like a dream of beauty, glides away.
    • "A Still Day in Autumn", line 3, p. 3.
  • Warm lights are on the sleepy uplands waning
    Beneath dark clouds along the horizon rolled,
    Till the slant sunbeams, through the fringes raining,
    Bathe all the hills in melancholy gold.
    • "A Still Day in Autumn, line 13, p. 4.
  • Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow,
    Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground,
    With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow,
    The gentian nods, in dewy slumbers bound.
    • "A Still Day in Autumn", line 21, p. 4.
  • Enchantress of the stormy seas,
    Priestess of Night's high mysteries!
    • "Moonrise in May", line 45, p. 11.
  • The shy little may-flower weaves her nest;
    But the south wind blows o'er the fragrant loam,
    And betrays the path to her woodland home.
    • "Wood-Walks in Spring", line 26, p. 16.
  • The summer skies are darkly blue,
    The days are still and bright,
    And Evening trails her robes of gold
    Through the dim halls of Night.
    • "Summer's Call to the Little Orphan", line 1, p. 38.
    • Compare: "I heard the trailing garments of the Night / Sweep through her marble halls", Longfellow.
  • And still the aster greets us, as we pass,
    With her faint smile,—among the withered grass.
    • "A Day of the Indian Summer", line 35, p. 54.
  • Again the fair azalea bows
    Beneath her snowy crest.
    • "She Blooms No More", line 5, p. 67.
  • Raven from the dim dominions
    On the Night's Plutonian shore,
    Oft I hear thy dusky pinions
    Wave and flutter round my door—
    See the shadow of thy pinions
    Float along the moonlit floor.
    • "The Raven", line 1, p. 72. (written as a counterpart to Poe's poem by the same name).
  • Tell him I lingered alone on the shore,
    Where we parted, in sorrow, to meet nevermore;
    The night-wind blew cold on my desolate heart
    But colder those wild words of doom,—“Ye must part.”
    • "Our Island of Dreams", line 1, p. 76.
  • Star of resplendent front! Thy glorious eye
    Shines on me still from out yon clouded sky.
  • The sweet imperious mouth, whose haughty valor
    Defied all portents of impending doom.
    • "The Portrait" (Of Poe), line 7, p. 195.
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