The Complete Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Edgar Allan Poe [1532]
Providence R. I. August 1848
Notes:
These two stanzas were sent to Poe, unsigned. The letter was addressed to Poe at Fordham, which had no post office. The nearest post office was at West Farms, where the letter sat for several weeks, until Mrs. Clemm was informed that there was an unclaimed letter there for Poe. She forwarded the letter to Poe in Richmond. Although it is unsigned, Poe said that he recognized Sarah H. Whitman’s handwriting, and a long, involved series of impassioned letters were exchanged between the two, culminating in a short-lived engagement and ending when Poe broke his pledge not to drink.
Edgar Allan Poe to Sarah H. Whitman — September 5, 1848
New-York — Sep. 5. 48.
Dear Madam —
Being engaged in making a collection of autographs of the most distinguished American authors, I am, of course, anxious to procure your own, and if you would so far honor me as to reply, however briefly, to this note, I would take it as a very especial favor.
Resy Yr mo. ob. st
Edward S. T. Grey.
Mrs Sarah Helen Whitman
Notes:
The precise origin of the pseudonym “Edward S. T. Grey” is not known, though Poe used it on at least one other occasion.
The following note appears on the envelope, written in the hand of Mrs. S. H. Whitman: “Sent by E. A. P. under an assumed name in order to ascertain if [I was] in Providence.”
Sarah H. Whitman to Edgar Allan Poe — September 27-29, 1848
(. . . .) You will, perhaps, attempt to convince me that my person is agreeable to you — that my countenance interests you: — but in this respect I am so variable that I should inevitably disappoint you if you hoped to find in me to-morrow the same aspect which won you to-day. And, again, although my reverence for your intellect and my admiration of your genius make me feel like a child in your presence, you are not, perhaps, aware that I am many years older than yourself. I fear you do not know it, and that if you had known it you would not have felt for me as you do. (. . . .) I find that I cannot now tell you all that I promised. I can only say to you [that had I youth and health and beauty, I would live for you and die with you. Now, were I to allow myself to love you, I could only enjoy a bright, brief hour of rapture and die — perhaps (illegible).
Edgar Allan Poe to Sarah H. Whitman — October 1, 1848
Sunday Night — Oct. 1 — 48.
I have pressed your letter again and again to my lips, sweetest Helen — bathing it in tears of joy, or of a “divine despair”. But I — who so lately, in your presence, vaunted the “power of words” — of what avail are mere words to me now? Could I believe in the efficiency of prayers to the God of Heaven, I would indeed kneel — humbly kneel — at this the most earnest epoch of my life — kneel in entreaty for words — but for words that should disclose to you — that might enable me to lay bare to you my whole heart. All thoughts — all passions seem now merged in that one consuming desire — the mere wish to make you comprehend — to make you see that for which there is no human voice — the unutterable fervor of my love for you: — for so well do I know your poet-nature, oh Helen, Helen! that I feel sure if you could but look down now into the depths of my soul with your pure spiritual eyes you could not refuse to speak to me what, alas! you still resolutely have unspoken — you would love me if only for the greatness of my love. Is it not something in this cold, dreary world, to be loved? — Oh, if I could but burn into your spirit the deep — the true meaning which I attach to those three syllables underlined! — but, alas: the effort is all in vain and “I live and die unheard”.
When I spoke to you of what I felt, saying that I loved now for the first time, I did not hope you would believe or even understand me; nor can I hope to convince you now — but if, throughout some long, dark summer night, I could but have held you close, close to my heart and whispered to you the strange secrets of its passionate history, then indeed you would have seen that I have been far from attempting to deceive