And this was the reason that, long ago, The angels, not half so happy in heaven, That the wind came out of the cloud by night, But our love it was stronger by far than the love And neither the angels in heaven above, 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. wwwwww THE ring is on my hand, And the wreath is on my brow; Satins and jewels grand Are all at my command, And I am happy now. And my lord he loves me well; I felt But, when first he breathed his vow; my bosom swell For the words rang as a knell, And the voice seemed his who fell In the battle down the dell, But he spoke to re-assure me, And thus the words were spoken, That proves me happy now! Would God I could awaken! For I dream I know not how, wwwwwwwww Che Baunted Palace. In the greenest of our valleys, Never seraph spread a pinion Banners yellow, glorious, golden, And every gentle air that dallied, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, Wanderers in that happy valley, Through two luminous windows, saw Spirits moving musically, To a lute's well-tuned law, Round about a throne where, sitting, (Porphyrogene! In state, his glory well befitting, The ruler of the realm was seen. And all with pearl and ruby glowing Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing, A troop of Echoes, whose sweet duty Was but to sing, In voices of surpassing beauty, The wit and wisdom of their king. But evil things, in robes of sorrow, And travellers, now, within that valley, While, like a ghastly rapid river, A hideous throng rush out for ever, Eulalie. I DWELT alone, 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. 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, |