A Dirge For Her The Doubly Dead

For The Moon Never Beams Without Bringing Me Dreams Of The Beautiful Annabel Lee

I Was Never Kinder To The Old Man Than During The Whole Week Before I Killed Him.

Then, Methought, The Air Grew Denser, Perfumed From An Unseen Censer Swung By Seraphim Whose Footfalls Tinkled On The Tufted Floor. "wretch," I Cried, "thy God Hath Lent Thee--by These Angels He Hath Sent Thee-- Respite--respite And Nepenthe From Thy Memories Of Lenore! Quaff, Oh Quaff This Kind Nepenthe, And Forget This Lost Lenore!" Quothe The Raven, "nevermore.

It Is By No Means An Irrational Fancy That, In A Future Existence, We Shall Look Upon What We Think Our Present Existence, As A Dream.

If You Wish To Forget Anything On The Spot, Make A Note That This Thing Is To Be Remembered.