Edgar Allan Poe: Poems of Edgar Allan Poe

26. EULALIE

                     I DWELT alone
                    In a world of moan,
        And my soul was a stagnant tide,
Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride -
Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride.

                    Ah, less - less bright
                    The stars of the night
            Than the eyes of the radiant girl!
                    And never a flake
                    That the vapour can make
            With the moon-tints of purple and pearl,
Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl -
Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless curl.

               Now Doubt - now Pain
               Come never again,
       For her soul gives me sigh for sigh,
               And all day long
               Shines, bright and strong,
       Astarté within the sky,
While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye -
While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye.

1845