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She lived unknown, and few could know

When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and, oh !
The difference to me!

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

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“But she is IN HER GRAVE, AND, OH! THE DIFFERENCE TO ME !"

ANNABEL LEE.

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 ;
But we loved with a love that was more than love,

I and my Annabel Lee-
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

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So that her high-born kinsman came
And bore her

away
from

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)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

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;
And neither the angels in heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

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;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling-my darling--my life and my bride,

In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

ADIEU.

LET time and chance combine, combine,
Let time and chance combine;
The faintest hope from heaven above,
That love of yours was mine,

My dear,
That love of yours was mine.

The past is fled and gone, and gone,
The past is fled and gone ;
If nought but pain to me remain,
I'll fare in memory on,

My dear,
I'll fare in memory on.

The saddest tears must fall, must fall,
The saddest tears must fall ;
In weal or woe, in this world below,
I love you ever and all,

My dear

I love you ever and all.

A long road full of pain, of pain,
A long road full of pain ;
One soul, one heart, sworn ne'er to part,
We ne'er can meet again,

My dear,
We ne'er can meet again.

Hard fate will not allow, allow,
Hard fate will not allow ;
We blessed were as the angels are,
Adieu forever, now,

My dear,
Adieu forever, now.

THOMAS CARLYLE,

EVELYN HOPE.

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 ;

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