Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Poe Called Her His "Little Wifey" RIP

Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe

August 22, 1822 - January 30, 1847

Poe's Wife & Cousin

RIP

Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe 1822-1847 RIP

VIRGINIA'S OBITUARY

"On Saturday, the 30th ult, of pulmonary consumption, in the 25th year of her age, VIRGINIA ELIZA, wife of EDGAR A. POE. Her friends are invited to attend her funeral at Fordham, Westchester county, on Tuesday next, (tomorrow,) at 2 P.M. The cars leave New-York for Fordham, from the City Hall, at 12 P.M., returning at 4 P.M."

Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe - wiki

Virginia Eliza Clemm Poe - Poe Forward

Poe's Women - Poe Forward


ANNABEL LEE

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 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 highborn kinsman 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.

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