"Nor the demons down under the sea?" I asked.
"I don't know about them," said my friend Annabel Lee.
I repeated:
"'For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beatiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiul 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 sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.'
Of the beatiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiul 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 sepulcher there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.'
The first lines," said I, "are well-fitting. For you are like to the moon and stars, and they are like to you. You are with them in the shadow-way. And if you