Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories and poems reflect a surreal and tragic life. His father and mother died before the poet was three years old. He was raised by John and Frances Allan as a foster child in Richmond, VA.
In 1836 he married Virginia, a teenager, who would die of tuberculosis ten years later. This poem, a meditation on a mother “who died early” but still knowing that unconditional, infinite love, his “heart of hearts,” via his wife.
To My Mother
Edgar Allan :Poe 1809-1849
The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of "Mother," Therefore by that dear name I long have called you— You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you In setting my Virginia's spirit free. My mother—my own mother, who died early, Was but the mother of myself; but you Are mother to the one I loved so dearly, And thus are dearer than the mother I knew By that infinity with which my wife Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.