There are days when she fills my life with herself.
She gives rise to manifold emotions which do not bring rest.
It was not I who named her Annabel Lee. That was always her name—that is who she is. It is not a Japanese name, to be sure—and she is certainly a native of Japan. But among the myriad names that are, that alone is the one which suits her; and she alone of the myriad maidens in the world is the one to wear it.
She wears it matchlessly.
I have the friendship of Annabel Lee; but for her love, that is different.
Annabel Lee is like no one you have known. She is quite unlike them all. Times I almost can feel a subtle, conscious love coming from her finger-tips to my forehead. And I, at one-and-twenty, am thrilled with thrills.
Forsooth, at one-and-twenty, in spite of
