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Serenade

So sweet the hour, so calm the time,    I feel it more than half a crime,    When Nature sleeps and stars are mute,    To mar the silence ev'n with lute.    At rest on ocean's brilliant dyes    An image of Elysium lies:    Seven Pleiades entranced in Heaven,    Form in the deep another seven:    Endymion nodding from above    Sees in the sea a second love.    Within the valleys dim and brown,    And on the spectral mountain's crown,    The wearied light is dying down,    And earth, and stars, and sea, and sky    Are redolent of sleep, as I    Am redolent of thee and thine    Enthralling love, my Adeline.    But list,

O list,- so soft and low    Thy lover's voice tonight shall flow,    That, scarce awake, thy soul shall deem    My words the music of a dream.    Thus, while no single sound too rude    Upon thy slumber shall intrude,    Our thoughts, our souls- O God above!    In every deed shall mingle, love.

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Edgar Allan Poe

Edgar Allan Poe (/poʊ/; born Edgar Poe; January 19, 1809 – October 7, 1849) was an American writer, poet, editor, and literary critic. Poe is be…

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