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Sleep on, sleep on, another hour — I would not break so calm a sleep,

To wake to sunshine and to show'r,

To smile and weep.

Sleep on, sleep on, like sculptured thing,

Majestic, beautiful art thou;

Sure seraph shields thee with his wing And fans thy brow — We would not deem thee child of earth,

For,

O, angelic, is thy form!

But, that in heav'n thou had'st thy birth,

Where comes no storm To mar the bright, the perfect flow'r,

But all is beautiful and still — And golden sands proclaim the hour Which brings no ill.

Sleep on, sleep on, some fairy dream Perchance is woven in thy sleep — But,

O, thy spirit, calm, serene,

Must wake to weep.

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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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