To My Mother
Edgar Allan Poe
Published in 1849
Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of “Mother,” Therefore by that dear name I long have called you— You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you In setting my Virginia's spirit free. My mother—my own mother, who died early, Was but the mother of myself; but you Are mother to the one I loved so dearly, And thus are dearer than the mother I knew By that infinity with which my wife Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.
(Publisher’s note: today is my mother’s birthday. She did not die early, and will probably outlive us all. Happy birthday, mom! I love you.)
Coming Soon to Edgar Allan Poe Daily:
07/06 & 07/07: a tale in two parts.
07/11 - 07/14: a mystery in four parts.