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Between the Covers | Edgar Allan Poe's "Annabel Lee"

Susan Stoderl

Woman reading a book on a canopy bed surrounded by stacked books. Text reads: "Between the Covers: A Peek into Classic Books - Annabel Lee, A Poem by Edgar Allan Poe."

Edgar Allan Poe (1809-49) was an American writer, poet, editor, and literary critic, best known for his tales of mystery and the macabre. Most of Poe’s life was one of tragedy and hardship.

His poem “Annabel Lee” first appeared in an anthology titled “The Southern Literary Messenger” in 1849, shortly after Poe’s mysterious death at forty. The narrator recounts his deep and everlasting love for Annabel Lee. It was a love so strong that even the angels envied them. The narrator believes that caused her death. However, despite her passing, his love endures and their souls remain intertwined. He dreams of and feels her presence as he lies beside her tomb.


It was many and many a year ago,

   In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

   By the name of Annabel Lee;


And this maiden she lived with no other thought

   Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

   In this kingdom by the sea,


But we loved with a love that was more than love—

   I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

   Coveted her and me.


And this was the reason that, long ago,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

   My beautiful Annabel Lee;


So that her highborn kinsmen came

   And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

   In this kingdom by the sea.


The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

   Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

   In this kingdom by the sea)


That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

   Of those who were older than we—

   Of many far wiser than we—


And neither the angels in Heaven above

   Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;


For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

   Of the beautiful 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 sepulchre there by the sea—

   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

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