Thank Heaven! the crisis-
The danger is past,
And the lingering illness
Is over at last-
And the fever called “Living”
Is conquered at last.
Sadly, I know
I am shorn of my strength,
And no muscle I move
As I lie at full length-
But no matter!-I feel
I am better at length.

And I rest so composedly,
Now, in my bed
That any beholder
Might fancy me dead-
Might start at beholding me,
Thinking me dead.

The moaning and groaning,
The sighing and sobbing,
Are quieted now,
With that horrible throbbing
At heart:- ah, that horrible,
Horrible throbbing!

The sickness- the nausea-
The pitiless pain-
Have ceased, with the fever
That maddened my brain-
With the fever called “Living”
That burned in my brain.

And oh! of all tortures
That torture the worst
Has abated- the terrible
Torture of thirst
For the naphthaline river
Of Passion accurst:-
I have drunk of a water
That quenches all thirst:-

Of a water that flows,
With a lullaby sound,
From a spring but a very few
Feet under ground-
From a cavern not very far
Down under ground.

And ah! let it never
Be foolishly said
That my room it is gloomy
And narrow my bed;
For man never slept
In a different bed-
And, to sleep, you must slumber
In just such a bed.

My tantalized spirit
Here blandly reposes,
Forgetting, or never
Regretting its roses-
Its old agitations
Of myrtles and roses:

For now, while so quietly
Lying, it fancies
A holier odor
About it, of pansies-
A rosemary odor,
Commingled with pansies-
With rue and the beautiful
Puritan pansies.

And so it lies happily,
Bathing in many
A dream of the truth
And the beauty of Annie-
Drowned in a bath
Of the tresses of Annie.

She tenderly kissed me,
She fondly caressed,
And then I fell gently
To sleep on her breast-
Deeply to sleep
From the heaven of her breast.

When the light was extinguished,
She covered me warm,
And she prayed to the angels
To keep me from harm-
To the queen of the angels
To shield me from harm.

And I lie so composedly,
Now, in my bed,
(Knowing her love)
That you fancy me dead-
And I rest so contentedly,
Now, in my bed,
(With her love at my breast)
That you fancy me dead-
That you shudder to look at me,
Thinking me dead.

But my heart it is brighter
Than all of the many
Stars in the sky,
For it sparkles with Annie-
It glows with the light
Of the love of my Annie-
With the thought of the light
Of the eyes of my Annie.

Analysis, meaning and summary of Edgar Allan Poe's poem For Annie

9 Comments

  1. Roxy says:

    I absolutely LOVE Edgar Allan Poe! His poems really speak to the soul. I mean, you can just feel his pain in some of his poems, and in others, like Annabel Lee, you can feel the love he has inside him. He is truly a poetic genius.

  2. ChangChang says:

    Truly this poem speaks to me. Edgar Allen Poe had many problems, and when he had to let out his feeling he wrote poetry that touches the soul.

  3. Melissa says:

    I think that the poem is about the fact that this woman, Annie (which he knew in real life, and who also happened to be married to another man), is practically untouchable since she is married. He speaks of being unable to move, and when she comes to his room and “gently caressed” him, he was lying unable to move a muscle.

    Before she came into the room, he was happy that he was close to death because he can not bear the pain of living. He said that death is the only cure for life (and love), and that now this “fever” is about to pass. However, when Annie steps into the room, his attitude totally changes. He is now content with his life and does not regret his past loves, although they hurt him so.

    One noticable feature in this poem in particular is that it is very suggestive that Poe was a drug user. He first compares love to a drug, an addiction:
    “The sickness- the nausea-
    The pitiless pain-
    Have ceased, with the fever
    That maddened my brain-
    With the fever called ‘Living’
    That burned in my brain.”

    All of those symptoms of “living” are similar to the symptoms a drug user would experience. Not to mention, he says:
    “And so it lies happily,
    Bathing in many
    A dream of the truth
    And the beauty of Annie-”

    Its reported that LSD users say that there is unimaginable truth found in the “mists of the mind” while high.
    When a drugged brain perceives itself in the center of the universe it can find wonderful truth in believing the universe revolves around it.

  4. Joshua M. Watson says:

    A b c d e f g, h i j k l m n o p, q r s, t u v, w x, y and z. Now I know my a b c’s. Next Time won’t you sing with me.

  5. Lee says:

    Before actually reading all of Poe’s works I thought of him only as a mystery writer. His poems area as beautiful as Dickinsons, Browning and others. “For Annie” is a true reflection of love lost.

  6. alex says:

    what cory said is right. only some one who has gone through such experiances can fully appreciate the poem.

  7. cory says:

    while this could yes be described as touching i think the true beauty can only be seen by someone who has loved and lost. eap is the greatest poet of all time.

  8. cr says:

    very touching to the heart and soul

  9. Rita says:

    How he describes the beauty of how he once loved a special person but yet the life behind that love. He is a very talented man for his short stories and the poetry that is strong and deep within the soul.

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