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She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived, whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love, and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea ;
I and my Annabel Lee-
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her high-born kinsman came
me, To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me,
Yes! that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we,
Of many far wiser than we;
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams without bringing me
dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee, And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
EDGAR ALLAN POE.
LET time and chance combine, combine,
The past is fled and gone, and gone,
The saddest tears must fall, must fall,
I love you ever and all.
A long road full of pain, of pain,
Hard fate will not allow, allow,
BEAUTIFUL Evelyn Hope is dead !
Sit and watch by her side an hour.
That is her book-shelf, this her bed ;
She pluck'd that piece of geranium-flower, Beginning to die, too, in the glass.
Little has yet been changed, I think; The shutters are shut-no light may pass,
Save two long rays thro' the hinges' chink.
Sixteen years old when she died !
Perhaps she had scarcely heard my name.. It was not her time to love; beside,
Her life had many a hope and aim, Duties enough and little cares ;
And now was quiet, now astirTill God's hand beckon'd unawares,
And the sweet white brow is all of her,
Is it too late, then, Evelyn Hope ?
What ! your soul was pure and true; The good stars met in your horoscope, Made
you of spirit, fire, and dew; And just because I was thrice as old,
And our paths in the world diverged so wide, Each was naught to each, must I be told ?
We were fellow-mortals-naught beside ?
No, indeed! for God above
Is great to grant, as mighty to make, And creates the love to reward the love ;
I claim you still, for my own love's sake! Delay'd, it may be, for more lives yet,
Through worlds I shall traverse, not a few ;