foundation did it rise slowly to a music slowly breathed? As usual, more
than one thing went to the building of so notable a poem. Considering the
longer sermons often preached on brief and less suggestive texts, I hope
not to be blamed for this discussion of a single lyric,--especially one
which an artist like Doré has made the subject of prodigal illustration.
Until recently I had supposed that this piece, and a few which its author
composed after its appearance, were exceptional in not having grown from
germs in his boyish verse. But Mr. Fearing Gill has shown me some
unpublished stanzas by Poe, written in his eighteenth year, and entitled,
"The Demon of the Fire." The manuscript appears to be in the poet's early
handwriting, and its genuineness is vouched for by the family in whose
possession it has remained for half a century. Besides the plainest germs
of "The Bells" and "The Haunted Palace" it contains a few lines somewhat
suggestive of the opening and close of _The Raven_. As to the rhythm of our
poem, a comparison of dates indicates that this was influenced by the
rhythm of "Lady Geraldine's Courtship." Poe was one of the first to honor
Miss Barrett's genius; he inscribed his collected poems to her as "the
noblest of her sex," and was in sympathy with her lyrical method. The
lines from her love-poem,

"With a murmurous stir uncertain, in the air, the purple curtain
Swelleth in and swelleth out around her motionless pale brows,"

found an echo in these:

"And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me--filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before."

Here Poe assumed a privilege for which he roughly censured Longfellow, and
which no one ever sought on his own premises without swift detection and