DWELT alone

EULALIE.

EULALIE.

I.

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In a world of moan,

And my soul was a stagnant tide,

Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride,-
'Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.

II.

Ah! less-less bright

The stars of the night,

Than the eyes of the radiant girl!

And never a flake

That the vapour can make,

With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,

Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl

Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless curl.

III.

Now doubt-now pain

Come never again,

For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,

And all day long

Shines, bright and strong,

Astarte within the sky;

While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye-
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.

E. A. POE.

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ANNABEL LEE.

ANNABEL LEE.

I.

T 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.

II.

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.

III.

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;
So that her high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

IV.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

Went envying her and me—

ANNABEL LEE.

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.

V.

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:

VI.

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.

E. A. POE.

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