Edgar Allan Poe

Tales Of The Grotesque and Arabesque Edgar Allan Poe

Itself, by itself, solely, one everlasting, and single. PLATO: SYMPOS. With a feeling of deep yet most singular affection I regarded my friend Morella. Thrown by accident into her society many years ago, my soul from our first meeting, burned with fires it had never before known; but the fires were not of Eros, and bitter and tormenting to my spirit was the gradual conviction that I could in no manner define their unusual meaning or regulate their vague intensity. Yet we met; and fate bound us together at the altar, and I never spoke of passion nor thought of love. She, however, shunned society, and, attaching herself to me alone rendered me happy. It is a happiness to wonder; it is a happiness to dream. Morella's erudition was profound. As I hope to live, her talents were of no common order-her powers of mind were gigantic. I felt this, and, in many matters, became her pupil. I soon, however, found that, perhaps on account of her Presburg education, she placed before me a number of those mystical writings which are usually considered the mere dross of the early German literature. These, for what reason I could not imagine, were her favourite and constant study-and that in process of time they became my own, should be attributed to the simple but effectual influence of habit and example.