the disembodied Lady Ligeia." Poe replied: "You are right— and this idea was mine—had I never written before I should have adopted it—but then there is Morella. . . . Since Morella is upon record I will suffer Ligeia to remain as it is." Seven years later he writes to Cooke: "The loftiest kind [of tale] is that of the highest imagination—and, for this reason only, Ligeia may be called my best tale. I have much improved this last since you saw it and I mail you a copy, as well as a copy of my best specimen of analysis—The Philosophy of Composition." The edition of Ligeia that Poe sent to Cooke is the one here reproduced. See also the note introducing The Conqueror Worm, pages 217-219.]
I cannot, for my soul, remember how, when, or even precisely where, I first became acquainted with the Lady Ligeia. Long years have since elapsed, and my memory is feeble through much suffering. Or, perhaps, I cannot now bring these points to mind, be- cause in truth the character of my beloved, her rare learning, her singular yet placid cast of beauty, and the thrilling and enthralling eloquence of her low musical language, made their way into my heart by paces so steadily and stealthily progressive that they have been unnoticed and unknown. Yet I believe that I met her first and most frequently in some large, old, decaying city near the Rhine. Of her family I have surely heard her speak. That it is of a remotely ancient date cannot be doubted. Ligeia! Ligeia! Buried in studies of a nature more than all else adapted to deaden impressions of the outward world, it is by that sweet word alone—by Ligeia—that I bring before
