To M. L. S——

by Edgar Allan Poe

Published 1847


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Of all who hail thy presence as the morning- 
Of all to whom thine absence is the night- 
The blotting utterly from out high heaven 
The sacred sun- of all who, weeping, bless thee 
Hourly for hope- for life- ah! above all, 
For the resurrection of deep-buried faith 
In Truth- in Virtue- in Humanity- 
Of all who, on Despair’s unhallowed bed 
Lying down to die, have suddenly arisen 
At thy soft-murmured words, “Let there be light!” 
At the soft-murmured words that were fulfilled 
In the seraphic glancing of thine eyes- 
Of all who owe thee most- whose gratitude 
Nearest resembles worship- oh, remember 
The truest- the most fervently devoted, 
And think that these weak lines are written by him- 
By him who, as he pens them, thrills to think 
His spirit is communing with an angel’s.


To M. L. S——,” one of many poems by Edgar Allan Poe, was first published in 1847.


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