A Potential Difficult Time

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 winged 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 kinsman 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 the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.




Edgar Allan Poe was born on January 19, 1809 to two traveling actors. He died in October 7th, 1849, though the cause of his death is still up for debate. When he was just eighteen, he published Tamberline, his first published work. His life is famous for being full of tragedy and depression. He died, not knowing how famous he would become. He lost the love of his life, his cousin Virginia, along with every significant female in his life.

This information was found on the Poe Museum’s official website.

http://www.poemuseum.org/life.php

This is probably my favorite Edgar Allan Poe poem ever. This poem, from what I know about it, is about Poe’s lost love. His lost love is his cousin, Virginia. She died of tuberculosis at a young age. This left Poe in an even more severe state of alcoholism, which may in fact had killed him. It’s his love letter he would put on her epitaph.

I’ve always liked Poe, even at a young age. His tortured soul has always made him one of the most interesting literary figures I’ve ever come across on. Like Annie Laurie, I cannot help but to think of my significant other. Many people think this poem is about his issues with necrophilia, the sexual desire for dead bodies. I do not see it as that.

I see it as a mourning for his wife, his love. It makes me think of what would happen to me if I did lose my significant other in a brutal way as Poe did. He’s saying, “Do you see that happy couple over there? That used to be us.” It truly shows how her death destroyed him. Who can blame him? I would use it as a remembering tool of what used to be.