32 lines
1.1 KiB
Plaintext
32 lines
1.1 KiB
Plaintext
1845
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EULALIE
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by Edgar Allan Poe
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EULALIE
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I dwelt alone
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In a world of moan,
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And my soul was a stagnant tide,
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Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride-
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Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.
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Ah, less- less bright
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The stars of the night
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Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
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That the vapor can make
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With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
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Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl-
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Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless
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curl.
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Now Doubt- now Pain
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Come never again,
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For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
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And all day long
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Shines, bright and strong,
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Astarte within the sky,
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While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye-
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While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.
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-THE END-
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