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Ah broken is the golden bowl the spirit flown fo

Ah broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!
Let the bell toll! a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river
And Guy de Vere hast thou no tear? weep now or nevermore!
See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love Lenore!
Come! let the burial rite be read the funeral song be sung!
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young
A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.
"Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride
And when she fell in feeble health ye blessed her that she died!
How shall the ritual then be read? the requiem how be sung
By you by yours the evil eye by yours the slanderous tongue
That did to death the innocence that died and died so young?"
Peccavimus but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song
Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong.
The sweet Lenore hath "gone before " with Hope that flew beside
Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy
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! avaunt! 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
Let no bell toll then lest her soul amid its hallowed mirth
Should catch the note as it doth float up from the damned Earth!
And I! to night my heart is light! no dirge will I upraise
But waft the angel on her flight with a Paean of old days!" .

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by:- admin posted in:- edgar allan poe

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