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Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.

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The stars of the night

Than the eyes of the radiant girl!

And never a flake

That the vapor 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.

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Come never again,

For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,

And all day long

Shines, bright and strong,

Astarté within the sky,

While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron

eye

While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.

TO F

BELOVED! amid the earnest woes

That crowd around my earthly path – (Drear path, alas! where grows Not even one lonely rose) ·

My soul at least a solace hath

In dreams of thee, and therein knows
An Eden of bland repose.

And thus thy memory is to me

Like some enchanted far-off isle In some tumultuous sea

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Some ocean throbbing far and free
With storms but where meanwhile
Serenest skies continually

Just o'er that one bright island smile.

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then let thy heart

From its present pathway part not!
Being everything which now thou art,
Be nothing which thou art not.
So with the world thy gentle ways,

Thy grace, thy more than beauty,
Shall be an endless theme of praise,

And love a simple duty.

THE RAVEN.

ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over

many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came

a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

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Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.

Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to

borrow

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For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name

Lenore

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple

curtain

Thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood

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Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I

implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came

rapping,

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my cham

ber door,

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That I scarce was sure I heard you - here I opened wide the door ;

Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no

token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore !

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This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word Lenore !"

Merely this and nothing more.

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