Poe’s Last Visit To Richmond

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Dr. Snodgrass got the delirious man into a hospital late in the afternoon, and for four days, until Sunday morning, his slow dying was a concentration of all the agonies with which he had lived for forty years. The tranquil twilight in Richmond, with prospects for security, had not reached into the secret places of his soul. He showed no will to live. He screamed once, when assured of friends awaiting his return, that the best thing a friend could do would be to shoot him. “Lenore” remained lost, with all else that the image had symbolized. When in a final moment of clarity he murmured, “God have mercy on my poor soul,” his death epitomized his own lines—

”… unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster …”