The first four lines," said I, "do very well, for it doesn't matter how long ago you lived—and who can tell? But—I fancy you live with other thoughts than that mentioned."
"I fancy I do," said my friend Annabel Lee.
I repeated:
"'I was a child, and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
And we loved with a love that was more than love,
I and my Annabel Lee—
A love that the wingèd seraphs in heaven
Coveted her and me.'
In this kingdom by the sea;
And we loved with a love that was more than love,
I and my Annabel Lee—
A love that the wingèd seraphs in heaven
Coveted her and me.'
The first line might stand," said I, "for you are only fourteen, and I but one-and-twenty—which is quite young youth when compared to the age of the earth. But the third and fourth lines are appalling. And, alas, you are not my Annabel Lee.
