Lyr Add: Recitation - Midnight Murder

24 Oct 19 - 08:14 PM (#4015254)
Subject: Lyr Add: Recitation - Midnight Murder
From: GUEST,.gargoyle

The Midnight Murder

T'was night! the stars were

shrouded in a vail of mist; a

clouded canopy o'er hung the

earth; the vivid lightnings

and shook their fiery

darts upon the earth; the deep

toned thunder rolled along the

vaulted sky; the elements were

in wild commotion; the storm

spirit howeled in the air; the

winds whistled; the hail stones

fell like leaden balls; the huge

undulations of the ocean dashed

upon the rock bound shore; and

torrents leaped from the mountain

tops; when the murderer sprung

from his sleep less couch with

vengence on his brow - murder

in his heart, and the fell in-

strument of distruction in his

hand.

The storm increased; the

lightening flashed with brighter

glare; the thunder growled with

deeper energy; the winds whistled

with wilder fury; the confusion

of the hour was congenial to

his soul, and in his bosom; he

clenched his weapon with a

sterner grasp; a demonic smile

gathered on his lips; he grated

his teeth; raised his arm

and sprung with a yell of

triumph upon his victum, and

relentlessly kille - a
mosquit0.





Punctuation as written.
I have found no copy of this anywhere - so consider it a Mudcat score.

Within a volume of verse titled, "Beautiful Gems of Thought and Sentiment"
Volumne inscribed to Jessie Harbaugh, 1891
Lies, between the pages, an eloquently handwritten copy.
I memorized and recited it for many years in my youth


(YIKES - There is a another handwritten manuscript within the book)
THE MURDERER
(captioned "An unpublished poem by Edward Poe")

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24 Oct 19 - 08:48 PM (#4015255)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitation - Midnight Murder
From: Joe Offer

"The Murderer"?

Go for it! I'd like to see it.

-Joe-

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24 Oct 19 - 09:52 PM (#4015256)
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Recitation - Midnight Murder
From: Joe Offer

Here's a version from 1838: Yankee Farmer and News Letter, Volumes 4-5, page 125

ELOQUENCE
Twas night! the stars were shrouded in a veil of mist—
a cloudy canopy o'erhung the earth—
the vivid lightnings flashed and shook their fiery tresses in the face of heaven—
the deep toned thunder rolled along the vaulted sky—
the elements were in wild commotion—
the storm-spirit howled in the air—
the winds whistled—
the hail stones fell like a shower of pearls—
the huge undulations of the ocean dashed upon the rock-bound shore—
torrents leaped from the mountain tops—
pigs squealed—
geese cackled—
cattle bellowed—
and George FitzGerald sprang from his sleepless couch with vengeance stamped upon his brow, murder in his heart, and the fell instrument of destruction in his hands.
The storm increased—
the lightnings flashed with a brighter glow—
the thunder growled with a deeper energy—
the wind whistled with a wilder fury—
the confusion of the hour was congenial to his soul and the stormy passion that raged in his bosom—
he clenched his weapon with a sterner grasp—
a demoniac smile gathered on his lip—
he grated his teeth, raised his arm, sprang with a yell of triumph on his victim, and relentlessly killed—
a flea.

Lots of versions of this at Google (click).

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