THE POE COTTAGE FROM THE ORCHARD ON THE 

 SOUTHEAST 



In its original location 



Photograph taken in 1XX4 by Stoughton 



POE'S COTTAGE AT FORDHAM 

 John Henry Boner 



Here lived the soul enchanted 



By melody of song : 

 Here dwelt the spirit haunted 



By a demoniac throng ; 

 Here sang the lips elated ; 

 Here grief and death were sated : 

 Here loved and here unmated 



Was he, so frail, so strong. 



Proud, mad. but not defiant. 

 He touched at heaven and hell 



Fate found a rare soul pliant 

 And rung her changes well. 



Alternately his lyre. 



Stranded with strings of fire. 



Led earth's most happy choir. 

 Or flashed with Israfel. 



Here wintry winds and cheerless No singer of old story 

 The dying firelight blew. Luting accustomed lays, 



While he whose song was peerless No harper for new glory. 

 Dreamed the drear midnight through. No mendicant for praise, 



And from dull embers chilling He struck high chords and splendid. 



Crept shadows darkly filling Wherein were fiercely blended 



The silent place, and thrilling Tones that unfinished ended 

 His fancy as they grew. With his unfinished days. 



Here with brow bared to heaven, 

 In starry night he stood. 



With the lost star of seven 

 Feeling sad brotherhood. 



Here in the sobbing showers 



Of dark autumnal hours 



He heard suspected powers 



Shriek through the stormy wood. 



Here through this lowly portal. 



Made sacred by his name. 

 Unheralded immortal 



The mortal went and came. 

 And fate that then denied him, 

 And envy that decried him, 

 And malice that belied him. 



Have cenotaphed his fame. 



( ourtesy of The Century Co. 



