Semi-weekly standard. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1853-18??, 1854-09-27

/ "ALAsl Poor YoRIcKi" We have seen in severa
of our exchanges proposition 10 erect over the
humble grave of EDGAR A. Poe, some simple mon
ument-a shattered shaft-a simple stone to marx
the spot cnsecrated by' the ashes of the dead poet
and we give our cordial approval to the idea; tor
whatever his follies, his filtes, or his errors
we cannot forget that others have thus erred before
that the gifted and the brilliant, the glorious IN
intellect and the grand in earthly fame, have ac
knowledged and bowed down before the same mallgr
| influence; can we forget that he was peculiarly
| erganzed-that he was bitterly harrassed-that he
was sorely tempted, and that an " eTring brother
his life appeals with earnest and passionate eoquence
to our sympathy and forgiveness, which few can
withhold, unless, like the Pharisce of old, they can
think God that they are not as other men-slnners.
Poor Poe he wandered thought life like the Paladln
| Aatolfo pursued, eternally pursued by some head
less horseman-some dark phantonl-some terrible
presentment, which, though unseen by other eyes,
not the less vivid reality to him. With such
| grim companionship then, we should pardon ana
obscure the faults which chequered his careerfauits
| which, shadow-ke, darkened the brilliancy OF his
genius and the purity of his lite Faults bitter and
sad were his, but they atill appeal from his humble
and solitary grave, it WERE with c!asped and pen
ential hands, for charity, ifnot oblivion and when
the stern painters who have drawn the dead mans
character in Rembrandt shadow, think upon his
prema ture and melancholy end, they should rem
embrr Bunyan's memorable saying aud so, tender1y
soothe the asperites of criticism which violate the
beautiful maxim of the ancients
Let them think, that Poe, the bard whose hand
has swept the golden chords of poesy until they have
trembled with melody sweet, sad, melancholy, i'm
mortal; let them think, that Poe, the romancer,
whose wild, mysterious stories have thrilled the peo-
pie of two helnspheres with fantastic and abnormal
terrors that Poe the critic, whoee stylus if keen as
scmetar, has yet done much very much, for Amer
lean literature and American taste Let them think,
we say, that Poe our "erring brother" and fellow
man. sleeps that the ''fever called living is end
ed at last" in humble and unhonored grave, I'M
marked by headstone, slab, Or inscription
Let u.s. thanking God for our kindlier lot, pay
some tribute to the dead bard; not that the place
where Poe sleeps requires monument, for the light
of his genius will encrcle that humble spot with
glory great as though his head was pillowed be-
meath cunningly wrought marble, and his sumbers
under the clustered and solemn arches of
Westminster; but let US sorrowfllly raise single
slab to chronicle his name and age-to speak with
out epitaph of his and his genus-to preach
deep, abiding in its simplicity-to cnunciate
the Old sad text that 'the way of the transgressor
is hard" Let do this and let the various Literary
Societies Of the State take 9ction in regard to put
ting into effect what have earnestly and sincerely
if fcebly, advocated and each man who contributes
Will purchase the pleasing reflection that in SO doing
he proclams his christian charity" for human
ror and gives thrill of mournfu happiness to the
few who still lament him. Poor Poe! SIT ti6i ter
ra leriS is our earnest and prayerful aspiration.
Hampton Mems and -fdrertiser