Summary

Portrait of Edgar Allan Poe Edgar Allan Poe Poe’s Tales of Mystery and Imagination… (1935)

But one autumnal evening, when the winds lay still in heaven, Morella called me to her bedside. There was a dim mist over all the earth, and a warm glow upon the waters, and, amid the rich October leaves of the forest, a rainbow from the firmament had surely fallen.
“It is a day of days,” she said as I approached, “a day of all days either to live or die. It is a fair day for the sons of earth and life—ah, more fair for the daughters of heaven and death!”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edgar Allan Poe Edgar Allan Poe Poe’s Tales of Mystery and Imagination… (1935)

I repeat that I am dying. But within me is a pledge of that affection—ah, how little —which thou didst feel for me, Morella. And when my spirit departs shall the child live—thy child and mine, Morella’s. But thy days shall be days of sorrow—that sorrow which is the most lasting of impressions, as the cypress is the most enduring of trees. For the hours of thy happiness are over; and joy is not gathered twice in a life, as the roses of Pæstum twice in a year.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Edgar Allan Poe Edgar Allan Poe Poe’s Tales of Mystery and Imagination… (1935)

What fiend spoke from the recesses of my soul, when, amid those dim aisles, and in the silence of the night, I whispered within the ears of the holy man the syllables—Morella? What more than fiend convulsed the features of the child, and overspread them with hues of death, as starting at that scarcely audible sound, she turned her glassy eyes from the earth to heaven, and, falling prostrate on the black slabs of our ancestral vault, responded—“I am here!”
Source: Wikisource

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