A Dirge For Her The Doubly Dead

True! - Nervous - Very, Very Nervous I Had Been And Am; But Why Will You Say That I Am Mad?

Beauty Of Whatever Kind, In Its Supreme Development, Invariably Excites The Sensitive Soul To Tears.

I Fell In Love With Melancholy

And My Soul From Out That Shadow That Lies Floating On The Floor, Shall Be Lifted -- Nevermore!

In For Ever Knowing, We Are For Ever Blessed; But To Know All Were The Curse Of A Fiend