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;

So that her highborn 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 bring 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 by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

EDGAR ALLAN POE

67

THE SHELL

AND then I pressed the shell

Close to my ear
And listened well,

And straightway like a bell

Came low and clear

The slow, sad murmur of far distant seas,
Whipped by an icy breeze
Upon a shore

Windswept and desolate.

It was a sunless strand that never bore

The footprint of a man,

Nor felt the weight

Since time began

Of any human quality or stir

Save what the dreary winds and waves incur.

And in the hush of waters was the sound

Of pebbles rolling round,

For ever rolling with a hollow sound.

And bubbling sea-weeds as the waters go
Swish to and fro

Their long, cold tentacles of slimy grey.
There was no day,

Nor ever came a night

Setting the stars alight

To wonder at the moon:

Was twilight only and the frightened croon,
Smitten to whimpers, of the dreary wind.
And waves that journeyed blind-
And then I loosed my ear-oh, it was sweet
To hear a cart go jolting down the street!

JAMES STEPHENS