Edgar Allan Poe to John Neal — October–November 1829 (letter and poetry excerpts)

Edgar Allan Poe to John Neal — October–November 1829 (letter and poetry excerpts) This is the original December 1829 printed witness under “Unpublished Poetry,” preserving Neal’s introduction, the quoted letter passage, its accompanying poetry excerpts, and Neal’s responses. The letter’s exact date is not written in this printing; October–November 1829 is the scholarly assignment. The original manuscript is unlocated, so this record claims the complete four-page publication, not a recovered complete autograph letter. Separate quotations and editorial comments remain visibly distinguished in the scan. Source: The Yankee and Boston Literary Gazette, new series, number 6, December 1829, pages 295–298. The local PDF retains the source page content and embedded images unchanged. Searchable text is repository machine OCR and contains recognition errors; consult the scan for exact wording. [Printed page 295] Unpublished Poetry. UNPUBLISHED POETRY. Tue following passages are from the manuseript-works of a young author, about to be published in Baltimore. He is entirely a stranger to us, but with all their faults, if the remainder of Al Aaraaf and Tamerlane are as good as the body of the extracts here given—to say nothing of the more extraordinary parts, he will deserve to stand high—very high—in the estimation of the shi- ning brotherhood. Whether he will do so however, must de- pend, not so much upon his worth now in mere poétry, as upon his worth hereafter in something yet loftier and more generous— we allude to the stronger properties of the mind, to the magna- nimous determination that enables a youth to endure the present, whatever the present may be, in the hope, or rather in the be- lief, the fixed, unwavering belief, that in the future he will find his reward. “I am young,” he says in a letter to one who has laid it on our table for a good purpose, “I am young—not yet twenty—am a poet—if deep worship of all beauty can make me one—and wish to be so in the more common meaning of the word. I would give the world to embody one half the ideas afloat in my imagination. (By the way, do you remember—or did you ever read the exclamation of Shelley about Shakspeare >—‘ What a number of ideas must have been afloat before such an author could arise !’) I appeal to you as a man that loves the same beau- ty which I adore—the beauty of the natural blue sky and the sunshiny earth—there can be no tie more strong than that of brother for brother—it is not so much that they love one another, as that they both love the same parent—their affections are al- ways running in the same direction—the same channel—and can- not help mingling. I am and have been, from my childhood, an idler. It cannot therefore be said that * I left a calling for this idle trade, A duty broke—a father disobeyed’— for I have no father—nor mother. I am about to publish a volume of ‘ Poems,’ the greater part written before I was fifteen. Speaking about ‘ Heaven,’ (1) the edi- tor of the Yankee says, ‘He might write a beautiful, if not a magnificent poem’—(the very first words of encouragement I ever remember to have heard.) I am very certain that as yet I have not written either—but that I can, I will take oath—if they will give me time. The poems to be published are ‘ Al Aaraaf’—‘ Tamerlane’— (1) A poem by the author of Al Aaraaf, mentioned in No. III: 168. [Printed page 296] 296 Unpublished Poetry. December, one about four, and the other about three hundred lines, with smaller pieces. ‘Al Aaraaf? has some good poetry, and much extravagance, which I have not had time to throw away. (2) * Al Aaraaf? is a tale of another world—the star discovered by Tycho Brahe, which appeared and disappeared so suddenly— or rather, it is no tale at all. I will insert an extract, about the palace of its presiding Deity, in which you will see that I have supposed many of the lost sculptures of our world to have flown (in spirit) to the st