XXIII
Me to My Friend Annabel Lee
I WROTE the day before yesterday this letter to my friend Annabel Lee:
Montreal.
Dear Fair Lady:
Since I have come to stay in Montreal for a time, and you still in Boston, I have seen you, times, even more vividly than when I was there. You come into my dreams at dead of night.
Can you imagine what you are in my dreams?
I look forward impatiently to the end of my time here, so that I may go to find you again;—but my impatience grows someway less when I think that if I am with you this vision may vanish from my dreams.
