Three Poe Songs

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 wing'd 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	
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 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 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.

Filled with mingled cream and amber,
I will drain that glass again.
Such hilarious visions clamber
Through the chamber of my brain.
Quaintest thoughts, queerest fancies
Come to life and fade away.
What care I how time advances;
I am drinking ale today.

From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were—I have not seen
As others saw—I could not bring
My passions from a common spring—
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow—I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone—
And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
Of a most stormy life—was drawn
From ev’ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still—
From the torrent, or the fountain—
From the red cliff of the mountain—
From the sun that ’round me roll’d
In its autumn tint of gold—
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass’d me flying by—
From the thunder, and the storm—
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view—