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Edgar Allen Poe
Eulalie
I
dwelt alone
In a world of moan
And my soul was a stagnant tide
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie
Ah,
less-- less bright
Are the stars of 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 -
Now
Doubt - now Pain
Come never again,
For her soul gives me sigh for sigh
And all day long
Shines, bright and strong,
Astarte within the sky,
While ever to her dear Eulalie
upturns
her matron eye -
upturns her violet eye. |
more by this author
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Love is, above all, the gift of oneself. - Jean Anouilh,
When I am sad and
weary. When I think all hope has gone.
When I walk along High Holborn, I think of you with nothing on
.
Adrian Mitchell
Those have most power to hurt us that we love. - Francis Beaumont,
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