Annabel Lee. Edgar Allan Poe - 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. death, their love still remains, and no one and nothing can stop that. Elements of Figurative Language in. “Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allen Poe. Edgar Allan Poe or the husband of Annabel. 3. Kingdom by the sea. 4. 6 stanzas / 6 to 8 lines per stanza/Narrative Poem/rhyme scheme ababcb. 5. Lines
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Edgar Allan Poe's Annabel Lee by Bryan Matuskey
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II, To Helen Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece. And the grandeur that was Rome.
The agate lamp within thy hand, Ah! Psyche from the regions which Are Holy Land! Edgar Allan Poe Ulalume The skies they were ashen and sober; The leaves they were crisped and sere— The leaves they were withering and sere; It was night in the lonesome October Of my most immemorial year: It was hard by the dim lake of Auber, In the misty mid region of Weir— It was down by the dank tarn of Auber, In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.
These were days when my heart was volcanic As the scoriac rivers that roll— As the lavas that restlessly roll Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek In the ultimate climes of the pole— That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek In the realms of the boreal pole.
Our talk had been serious and sober, But our thoughts they were palsied and sere— Our memories were treacherous and sere,— For we knew not the month was October, And we marked not the night of the year Ah, night of all nights in the year! And now, as the night was senescent And star-dials pointed to morn— As the star-dials hinted of morn— At the end of our path a liquescent And nebulous lustre was born, Out of which a miraculous crescent Arose with a duplicate horn— Astarte's bediamonded crescent Distinct with its duplicate horn.
And I said: "She is warmer than Dian; She rolls through an ether of sighs— She revels in a region of sighs: She has seen that the tears are not dry on These cheeks, where the worm never dies, And has come past the stars of the Lion To point us the path to the skies— To the Lethean peace of the skies— Come up, in despite of the Lion, To shine on us with her bright eyes— Come up through the lair of the Lion, With love in her luminous eyes.
I replied: "This is nothing but dreaming: Let us on by this tremulous light! Let us bathe in this crystalline light!
Its Sybilic splendour is beaming With Hope and in Beauty tonight! Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming, And be sure it will lead us aright— We safely may trust to a gleaming, That cannot but guide us aright, Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night.
To My Mother Because I feel that, in the Heavens above, The angels, whispering to one another, Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of "Mother," Therefore by that dear name I long have called you— You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you In setting my Virginia's spirit free.
My mother—my own mother, who died early, Was but the mother of myself; but you 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.
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