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I DWELT alone
In a world of moan,
And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride —
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.
Ah, less — less bright
The stars of the night
Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
And never a flake
That the vapor can make
[[v]]
With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl —
Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless curl.
Now Doubt — now Pain
Come never again,
For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
[[v]]
And all day long
Shines, bright and strong,
Astarté within the sky,
[[v]]
While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye —
[[v]]
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.
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Notes:
None.
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[S:0 - JHW11, 1911] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - Eulalie -- A Song (ed. J. H. Whitty, 1911)