Sarah Helen Whitman

Sarah Helen Power Whitman (January 19, 1803 – June 27, 1878) was a poet, essayist, transcendentalist, Spiritualist and a romantic interest of Edgar Allan Poe.

Quotes

 * Poems (Boston: Houghton, Osgood and Company, 1879)


 * When summer gathers up her robes of glory, And, like a dream of beauty, glides away.
 * "A Still Day in Autumn", line 3, p. 3.


 * Warm lights are on the sleepy uplands waning Beneath dark clouds along the horizon rolled, Till the slant sunbeams, through the fringes raining,  Bathe all the hills in melancholy gold.
 * "A Still Day in Autumn, line 13, p. 4.


 * Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow, Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground, With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow, The gentian nods, in dewy slumbers bound.
 * "A Still Day in Autumn", line 21, p. 4.


 * Enchantress of the stormy seas, Priestess of Night's high mysteries!
 * "Moonrise in May", line 45, p. 11.


 * The shy little may-flower weaves her nest; But the south wind blows o'er the fragrant loam, And betrays the path to her woodland home.
 * "Wood-Walks in Spring", line 26, p. 16.


 * The summer skies are darkly blue, The days are still and bright, And Evening trails her robes of gold  Through the dim halls of Night.
 * "Summer's Call to the Little Orphan", line 1, p. 38.
 * Compare: "I heard the trailing garments of the Night / Sweep through her marble halls", Longfellow.


 * And still the aster greets us, as we pass, With her faint smile,—among the withered grass.
 * "A Day of the Indian Summer", line 35, p. 54.


 * Again the fair azalea bows Beneath her snowy crest.
 * "She Blooms No More", line 5, p. 67.


 * Raven from the dim dominions On the Night's Plutonian shore, Oft I hear thy dusky pinions  Wave and flutter round my door— See the shadow of thy pinions  Float along the moonlit floor.
 * "The Raven", line 1, p. 72. (written as a counterpart to Poe's poem by the same name).


 * Tell him I lingered alone on the shore, Where we parted, in sorrow, to meet nevermore; The night-wind blew cold on my desolate heart But colder those wild words of doom,—“Ye must part.”
 * "Our Island of Dreams", line 1, p. 76.


 * Star of resplendent front! Thy glorious eye Shines on me still from out yon clouded sky.
 * "Arcturus" (To Edgar Allan Poe, October 1849), line 1, p. 86.


 * The sweet imperious mouth, whose haughty valor Defied all portents of impending doom.
 * "The Portrait" (Of Poe), line 7, p. 195.