New Orleans Republican. [volume] (New Orleans, La) 1867-1878, 1870-11-27

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eFlclAl JOURNAL OF the UNITED STATES
FFlclAt JOURNAL 0F NEW ORLEANS
SEQUEL TO THE CRAVEN"
The Present Age, published in Chicago,
YES the following remarkable poem, in its
st issue, stating that it was written by
man 60 insane that no had to be confined
: 3 straightjacket. He fancied that 1t was
ctsted by the spirit Of Edgar A. Poe. II
V never been published before, and Will
yubtless attract much attention, as It IS IN
me respects infinitely finer than fpes
Raven"
ma author is r. Allst0n Lavender, Jr., a
aniac in the lunatic asylum at Raleigh
orth Carolina:
Fires within nav brain were burning.
Scorning life, despairing, yearning,
Hopeless, blinded IN my anguish
Through my tody's open door
Game Raven, foul and sable,
Like those evil birds Of fable,
Downward swoOping where the dropping
epectres haunt the Stygian shore.
Ghosts of agonies departed,
Fostering wounds that long had smarted,
Broken vows, returnless mornings,
Griefs and miseries OF yore..S
BY some art revived, undaunted.
gased steadfast: the enchanted,
Black, internal Raven uttered
wild dirge-not kvermore.
Casing steady, gazing madly
On the bird spoke. and sadly
Broke down, too deep for sc0rniDg,
Sought for mercy to implore.
Turning to the bird blessed it
In my bosom Icaressed it;
Still II pierced my heart, and fcveled
In the palpitating gore.
grew mad: the browning fancies
Black weeds they-not blooming pansies,
Made mo think the bird a spirit.
Bird, cried, be bird no more:
Take . shape-be man, be devil,
De . snake, rise in thy rcyel!
From thy banquet r,ss s..ta,a human
Thou AT a bird, bur something more.
Tapping, tapping striking deeper,
Scasipx pain my sSdys s assRel
At the hearts great palace door,
Leave me, leave me, gloomy demon,
Riend or spirit, most inhuman;
Strike me through, but fir1 Dunvetling.
Let me scan thee Ger and DER
Thou art bird, but something more.
still with sable pinions tapping,
The great raven tapping, tapping,
vast his wings outspread. and DER
An my nature cast pallor,
But stFove, with dying valor,
with the poignard Of repulsi0n,
Striking through the form it wore
OF bird, and something more.
Image that HELPS King hath craven,
Image growing more gigantic.
Nursed beyond the Stygian shore.
leave me- e.. leave q me- , Ss.ssch thee thee
cried niadly, then earth opened,
With brazen earthquake roar.
Downward, downward, sirclins, speeding
Cries Of anguish still unheeding
Striking through me with his talons,
Still the Raven shape he bore.
Onto Krebus We drilled,
His huge wings by thunder lifted,
Beat 'gainst drifts of white famed lightning
Sprinkled red with human GORE
TWAS . bird, but demon more.
FIN NO bird, an angel brother"
A bright spirit and none other,
1 have waited. bIissful tended
In thy Wild, iilnsiSe madness
In thy hight, disease and sadness,
4 have sounded, tapping, tapping
At thy :piri.s Rden door,
In my Palmyrenian splendor,
In Zenohian regnance tender
RVeAAAA
Were the kingly name bore,
Dropping in thy sorrows chslice
sConaOlafi0n; oh twas blessed,
Sweet thy pillow to bend DER, 4
Not bird, loves angel more.
;Shiping down with light Elysian
Through the pcariy gate of vision,
On thy tranced soul lighted fancy,
When across thy chamber door,
Fell the spirit moonlight laden,
Laden with soft dews from Aiienn,
Shaken downward, still Nepenthe
Drunk by dreaming bards Of yore.
Ended is iife,s hooking fever
: Where through citron groves forever
Blow the spice wiAds, and the love birds
Tell their raptures DER and DER,
From earth's he'll by Afrits haunted
From its evil disenchanted,
have borne thee. gaze upon me,
Didst thou see me neer before!
Then Weakened, ito waken
Be to dwell by grief, foraker,
With the God who dwelt with angels
In the shining age Of yOre
And stood sublime, victorious,
While below lay earth with glorious
Realms Of angels shining
Crown-like on her temples evermore,
Not ON earth, an Eden more.
Earth, cried thy clouds are shadows
From the AsphOdelian meadows
OF the sky-w0rld floating downward,
early runs tn8t IRON tueI0 pour,
Loves own heaven thy mother bore thee
And the Father God bends 0'erthee
IT'S His hand that crowns thy forehead
Thou ohalt live forever more
Not on earth, an Eden more.
AZ gem has many gleamings,
And day hath many beamings,
And garden many roses
Thrilled with sweetness to the core,
So the sal hath many ages,
And the life's book many pages,
But the hearts great gospel opens
Where the Seraphims adore,
Not ON earth, an Eden more.
I viii write book hereafter,
Cheerful rs baby's laughter
When it, mothers breast DER leans it.
On the sainted spirit shore,
Like Apollo, the far data,
|, the poet and the martyr,
Win chant pseans Of soul music
Thst shall live forevermore,
Not friend, . brother more.
Tive Roses at the Varieties.
The new piece, the 1.-TWO Roses" wa
reeted at the Varieties on Friday night b.
1c~r~ crI gosA:crnJ,Ia o,J:acoo tn,