Commingled with pansies, With rue and the beautiful Puritan pansies.

And so it lies happily,

Bathing in many

A dream of the truth

And the beauty of AnnieDrowned in a bath

Of the tresses of Annie.

She tenderly kissed me,

She fondly caressed,

And then I fell gently

To sleep on her breast,—

Deeply to sleep

From the heaven of her breast.

When the light was extinguished,

She covered me warm,
And she prayed to the angels
To keep me from harm,-
To the queen of the angels
To shield me from harm.
And I lie so composedly
Now in my bed,
(Knowing her love,)

That you fancy me dead;-
And I rest so contentedly

Now in my bed,

(With her love at my breast,)

That you fancy me dead,— That you shudder to look at me, Thinking me dead:

But my heart it is brighter
Than all of the many

Stars in the sky;

For it sparkles with Annie,—

It glows with the light

Of the love of my Annie,

With the thought of the light
Of the eyes of my Annie.

-Edgar Allen Poe.

Y fairest child, I have no song to give you;

My fortat could pipe to skies so dull and gray;

Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you
For every day.

Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever Do noble things, not dream them, all day long And so make life, death, and that vast forever, One grand, sweet song.