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ANNABEL LEE

By EDGAR ALLAN POE

T was many and many a year ago,

IT

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden 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 kinsmen came,
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre,
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not 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;

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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 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 her sepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

TH

THE THREE FISHERS

By CHARLES KINGSLEY

HREE fishers went sailing out into the westOut into the west as the sun went down; Each thought on the woman who loved him the best, And the children stood watching them out of the

town;

For men must work, and women must weep;
And there's little to earn, and many to keep,
Though the harbor bar be moaning.

Three wives sat up in the lighthouse tower,

And trimmed the lamps as the sun went down; And they looked at the squall, and they looked at the shower,

And the night rack came rolling up, ragged and

brown;

But men must work, and women must weep,-
Though storms be sudden, and waters deep,
And the harbor bar be moaning.

[graphic]

THE NIGHT RACK CAME ROLLING UP

Three corpses lay out on the shining sands

In the morning gleam as the tide went down, And the women are weeping and wringing their hands,

For those who will never come back to the town; For men must work, and women must weep, And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep,-And good-bye to the bar and its moaning.

THE REAPER'S DREAM

By THOMAS BUCHANAN READ

HE road was lone; the grass was dank

TH

With night-dews on the briery bank
Whereon a weary reaper sank.

His garb was old; his visage tanned;
The rusty sickle in his hand

Could find no work in all the land.

He saw the evening's chilly star
Above his native vale afar;

A moment on the horizon's bar

It hung, then sank, as with a sigh;
And there the crescent moon went by,
An empty sickle down the sky.

To soothe his pain, Sleep's tender palm
Laid on his brow its touch of balm;
His brain received the slumberous calm;
And soon that angel without name,
Her robe a dream, her face the same,
The giver of sweet visions came.

She touched his eyes; no longer sealed,
They saw a troop of reapers wield
Their swift blades in a ripened field.
At each thrust of their snowy sleeves
A thrill ran through the future sheaves
Rustling like rain on forest leaves.

They were not brawny men who bowed,
With harvest voices rough and loud,

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