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FLOW softly — gently — vital stream;
Ye crimson life-drops, stay;
Indulge me with this pleasing dream
Thro’ an eternal day.
See — see — my soul, her agony!
See how her eye-balls glare!
Those shrieks, delightful harmony,
Proclaim her deep despair.
Rise — rise — infernal spirits, rise,
Swift dart across her brain
Thou Horror, with blood-chilling cries,
Lead on thy hidious train.
O, feast my soul, revenge is sweet,
Louisa, take my scorn; —
Curs’d was the hour that saw us meet,
The hour when we were born.
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Notes:
None.
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[S:0 - JHW11, 1911] - Edgar Allan Poe Society of Baltimore - Works - The Vital Stream (ed. J. H. Whitty, 1911)