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 Annabelle Lee -
With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
- Edgar Allan Poe
"Annabelle Lee"
Beyond a mortal man impassion'd far
At these voluptuous accents, he arose
Ethereal, flush'd, and like a throbbing star
Seen mid the sapphire heaven's deep repose;
Into her dream he melted, as the rose
Blendeth its odour with the violet, -
Solution sweet: meantime the frost-wind blows
Like Love's alarum pattering the sharp sleet
Against the window-panes: St. Agnes' moon hath set.
- John Keats
"The Eve of St. Agnes"
And the gates of this Chapel were shut
And Thou shalt not, writ over the door:
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore.
- William Blake
"The Garden of Love"
So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as loving,
And the moon be still as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
- Lord Byron
"So We'll Go No More a Roving"
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