



Produced by David Widger and Carlo Traverso








THE WORKS OF EDGAR ALLAN POE

IN FIVE VOLUMES


The Raven Edition




VOLUME I


Contents:

     Edgar Allan Poe, An Appreciation
     Life of Poe, by James Russell Lowell
     Death of Poe, by N. P. Willis
     The Unparalleled Adventures of One Hans Pfaall
     The Gold-Bug
     Four Beasts in One
     The Murders in the Rue Morgue
     The Mystery of Marie Rogêt
     The Balloon-Hoax
     MS. Found in a Bottle
     The Oval Portrait




EDGAR ALLAN POE

AN APPRECIATION


   Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
   Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore--
   Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
         Of “never--never more!”

THIS stanza from “The Raven” was recommended by James Russell Lowell as
an inscription upon the Baltimore monument which marks the resting place
of Edgar Allan Poe, the most interesting and original figure in American
letters. And, to signify that peculiar musical quality of Poe’s genius
which inthralls every reader, Mr. Lowell suggested this additional
verse, from the “Haunted Palace”:

   And all with pearl and ruby glowing
    Was the fair palace door,
   Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing,
    And sparkling ever more,
   A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty
    Was but to sing,
   In voices of surpassing beauty,
    The wit and wisdom of their king.


Born in poverty at Boston, January 19, 1809, dying under painful
circumstances at Baltimore, October 7, 1849, his whole literary career
of scarcely fifteen years a pitiful struggle for mere subsistence, his
memory malignantly misrepresented by his earliest biographer, Griswold,
how completely has truth at last routed falsehood and how magnificently
has Poe come into his own. For “The Raven,” first published in 1845,
and, within a few months, read, recited and parodied wherever the
English language was spoken, the half-starved poet received $10! Less
than a year later his brother poet, N. P. Willis, issued this touching
appeal to the admirers of genius on behalf of the neglected author, his
dying wife and her devoted mother, then living under very straitened
circumstances in a little cottage at Fordham, N. Y.:

“Here is one of the finest scholars, one of the most original men of
genius, and one of the most industrious of the literary profession of
our country, whose temporary suspension of labor, from bodily illness,
drops him immediately to a level with the common objects of public
charity. There is no intermediate stopping-place, no respectful shelter,
where, with the delicacy due to genius and culture, he might secure
aid, till, with returning health, he would resume his labors, and his
unmortified sense of independence.”

And this was the tribute paid by the American public to the master who
had given to it such tales of conjuring charm, of witchery and mystery
as “The Fall of the House of Usher” and “Ligeia”; such fascinating
hoaxes as “The Unparalleled Adventure of Hans Pfaall,” “MSS. Found in a
Bottle,” “A Descent Into a Maelstrom” and “The Balloon-Hoax”; such tales
of conscience as “William Wilson,” “The Black Cat” and “The Tell-tale
Heart,” wherein the retributions of remorse are portrayed with an awful
fidelity; such tales of natural beauty as “The Island of the Fay” and
“The Domain of Arnheim”; such marvellous studies in ratiocination as the
“Gold-bug,” “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” “The Purloined Letter”
 and “The Mystery of Marie Roget,” the latter, a recital of fact,
demonstrating the author’s wonderful capability of correctly analyzing
the mysteries of the human mind; such tales of illusion and banter
as “The Premature Burial” and “The System of Dr. Tarr and Professor
Fether”; such bits of extravaganza as “The Devil in the Belfry” and “The
Angel of the Odd”; such tales of adventure as “The Narrative of Arthur
Gordon Pym”; such papers of keen criticism and review as won for Poe the
enthusiastic admiration of Charles Dickens, although they made him many
enemies among the over-puffed minor American writers so mercilessly
exposed by him; such poems of beauty and melody as “The Bells,” “The
Haunted Palace,” “Tamerlane,” “The City in the Sea” and “The Raven.”
 What delight for the jaded senses of the reader is this enchanted domain
of wonder-pieces! What an atmosphere of beauty, music, color! What
resources of imagination, construction, analysis and absolute art! One
might almost sympathize with Sarah Helen Whitman, who, confessing to
