verses which is always evidence of a finely strung nervous

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 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 high-born kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea."

The next line is a striking proof of that mixture of puerility and beauty, which, like the conflict of his own discordant

nature, renders his writings as well as himself a problem to his

fellow men.

There is great force and beauty in

"The wind came out of the cloud by night,"

and yet how immediately he spoils the effect for the sake of the jingle of "chilling and killing-"

"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 are 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.”

Well known as the "Raven" is, we should leave the poetical idea of him incomplete without illustrating our remarks by a quotation. We have printed the stanzas differently in shape to the method he has followed, but the words are of course unaltered.

"Once upon a midnight dreary,
While I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious
Volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping,
Suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping,

Rapping at my chamber door.

"Tis some visitor,' I muttered,
Tapping at my chamber door-

Only this, and nothing more."

The next stanza closes with one of the finest touches of poetical imagery and pathos.

"For the rare and radiant maiden
Whom the angels name Lenore.”

As Coleridge says, "beautiful exceedingly."

The mechanical structure of the verse is very apparent when read with attention to the pauses. Nevertheless, it is a poem which will always give pleasure to the reader, even though it be read for the hundredth time; for, notwithstanding the marked arith

metic of the shape, it is one of those few productions which bear repetition without palling.

"Deep into that darkness peering,

Long I stood there, wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal
Ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken,

And the darkness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken

Was the whispered word 'Lenore!'

This I whispered, and an echo

Murmured back the word 'Lenore!"
Merely this, and nothing more.

Not the least obeisance made he;
Not an instant stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady,

Perched above my chamber door

Perched upon a bust of Pallas

Just above my chamber door

Perched, and sat, and nothing more."

How visibly the poet's intention to produce effect by the

outer shape of verse is here made apparent :

"Then this ebony bird beguiling

My sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum

Of the countenance it wore,

'Though thy crest be shorn and shaven,
Thou,' I said, 'art sure no craven,

Ghastly grim and ancient raven

Wandering from the Nightly shore

Tell me what thy lordly name is

On the Night's Plutonian shore !'