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Of the bells, bells, bells-
To the rolling of the bells—
To the tolling of the bells,
To the moaning and the groaning of the bells.
"SELDOM we find," says Solomon Don Dunce,
Twirls into trunk-paper the while you con it."
But this is, now, you may depend upon it
Stable, opaque, immortal-all by dint
Of the dear names that lie concealed within 't.
Ir 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 loveI and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven Coveted her and me.
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 ny ANNABEL LEE.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of many far wiser than we
And neither the angels in heaven above,
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
TO MY MOTHER.
BECAUSE I feel that, in the Heavens above,
And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you
My mother-my own mother, who died early,
Are mother to the one I loved so dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother I knew
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life.
And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door,
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,
Of the old time entombed.
And travellers, now, within that valley,
To a discordant melody,
While, like a ghastly rapid river,
A hideous throng rush out forever
And laugh—but smile no more.