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retrogradation, to what original impulse it was due. This powerof retrogradation in its absolute fulness and perfection—this facultyof referring at all epochs, all effects to all causes—is of course theprerogative of the Deity alone—but in every variety of degree, short ofthe absolute perfection, is the power itself exercised by the whole hostof the Angelic Intelligences.
    OINOS. But you speak merely of impulses upon the air.
    AGATHOS. In speaking of the air, I referred only to the earth; but thegeneral proposition has reference to impulses upon the ether—which,since it pervades, and alone pervades all space, is thus the greatmedium of creation.
    OINOS. Then all motion, of whatever nature, creates?
    AGATHOS. It must: but a true philosophy has long taught that the sourceof all motion is thought—and the source of all thought is—
    OINOS. God.
    AGATHOS. I have spoken to you, Oinos, as to a child of the fair Earthwhich lately perished—of impulses upon the atmosphere of the Earth.
    OINOS. You did.
    AGATHOS. And while I thus spoke, did there not cross your mind somethought of the physical power of words? Is not every word an impulse onthe air?
    OINOS. But why, Agathos, do you weep—and why, oh why do your wingsdroop as we hover above this fair star—which is the greenest and yetmost terrible of all we have encountered in our flight? Its brilliantflowers look like a fairy dream—but its fierce volcanoes like thepassions of a turbulent heart.
    AGATHOS. They are! —they are! This wild star—it is now three centuriessince, with clasped hands, and with streaming eyes, at the feet of mybeloved—I spoke it—with a few passionate sentences—into birth. Itsbrilliant flowers are the dearest of all unfulfilled dreams, and itsraging volcanoes are the passions of the most turbulent and unhallowedof hearts.

    Another of his poems in prose. Here a demon pictures the actions of man set against a strange landscape where rain turns to blood once it hits the ground. The man suggests Poe himself: “…his brow was lofty with thought, and his eye wild with care.”
    It may be important for readers to have their own image of what a demon is. In ancient Greece, a daimon was a tutelary spirit guiding one to self-actualization. Through the centuries a reversal took place. The demon who tells this fable admits to using the force of a curse to effect change. How often do we say things that cause the world to darken?
    In one of his richest concluding paragraphs, Poe evokes the ‘glorious histories’ and holy lore he surely would like his own fabulations to be included among. The lynx, sacred to Apollo, may symbolize a matchless vision.

SILENCE — A FABLE
    â€œThe mountain pinnacles slumber; valleys,
crags and caves are silent .” —Alcman
    â€œListen to me ,” said the Demon as he placed his hand upon my head. “The region of which I speak is a dreary region in Libya, by the borders of the river Zaire. And there is no quiet there, nor silence.
    â€œThe waters of the river have a saffron and sickly hue; and they flow not onwards to the sea, but palpitate forever and forever beneath the red eye of the sun with a tumultuous and convulsive motion. For many miles on either side of the river’s oozy bed is a pale desert of gigantic water-lilies. They sigh one unto the other in that solitude, and stretch towards the heaven their long and ghastly necks, and nod to and fro their everlasting heads. And there is an indistinct murmur which cometh out from among them like the rushing of subterrene water. And they sigh one unto the other.
    â€œBut there is a boundary to their realm—the boundary of the dark, horrible, lofty forest. There, like the waves about the Hebrides, the low underwood is agitated continually. But there is no wind throughout the heaven. And the tall primeval trees rock eternally hither and thither with a crashing and mighty sound.