Page:The Works of the Late Edgar Allan Poe (Volume II).djvu/40

 For her, the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies, The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes— The life still there, upon her hair—the death upon her eyes.

"Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise, "But waft the angel on her flight with a Pæan of old days! "Let no bell toll!—lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth, "Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the damnéd Earth. "To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven— "From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven— "From grief and groan, to a golden throne, beside the King of Heaven."





