Thus was it with Poe. Not clearly discerning the purposes of life, he did not bend his efforts to one high and holy aim. His nature was wandering and erratic. This is also _his_ present view of his earthly life. “He has cast away his laurel wreath of fame,” and now upon his brow, burning brightly with the glories of the celestial sphere, is an olive wreath of peace. He stands now as a majestic soul, self-poised and harmonious. Yet he has not lost aught of the brilliancy and fire of his genius. Edgar A. Poe was mighty in the flesh; and in the spirit he is mightier far. His manifestations will yet come to mankind, but not as from the individual. They will speak to your souls; they will breathe in words of fire from the lips of Humanity, as inspirations from the Higher Life, rather than as the utterances of him who was once known among men as EDGAR A. POE. “O, ever thus have Earth’s most noble-hearted Gone calmly upward to their place above! And when their footsteps from the earth departed, Have left their works of genius or of love. For Aspiration is the moral lever, raising The earnest spirit to its destined height; But Inspiration only comes from gazing Upon the perfect Source of Life and Light!” FAREWELL TO EARTH. [The following poem purports to be Poe’s final farewell to Earth. It was given in the city of New York, Monday evening, Nov. 2, 1863.] I. Farewell! Farewell! Like the music of a bell Floating downward to the dell-- Downward from some Alpine height, While the sunset-embers bright, Fade upon the hearth of night; So my spirit, voiceless--breathless,-- Indestructible and deathless, From the heights of Life Elysian gives to Earth my parting song; Downward through the star-lit spaces, Unto Earth’s most lowly places, Like the sun-born strains of Memnon, let the music float along, With a wild and wayward rhythm, with a movement deep and strong. “Come up higher!” cry the angels.--This must be my parting song. Earth! O Earth! thou art my Mother. Mortal man! thou art my Brother. We have shared a mutual sorrow, we have known a common birth; Yet with all my soul’s endeavor, I will sunder, and forever, Every tie of human passion that can bind my soul to Earth-- Every slavish tie that binds me to the things of little worth. “Come up higher!” cry the angels: “come! and bid farewell to Earth.”