| 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 cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee; So that her high-born kinsmen came And bore her away form me, To shut her up in a sepulcher In this kingdom by the sea. *The angels not 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 blew 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 sepulcher there by the sea-- In her tomb by the sounding sea. |
| REFERENCED WORKS PAGE HERE YOU WILL FIND EXCERPTS AND POETRY QUOTED, USED, OR OTHERWISE REFERENCED IN MY WRITINGS, AS WELL EXPLANATIONS OF WHERE/WHY I USED THEM. |
| IRELAND |
| DORA SIGERSON |
| 'Twas the dream of a God And the mould of his hand, That you shook 'neath His stroke That you trembled and broke To this beautiful land. Here he loosed from his hold A brown tumult of wings, 'Till the wind on the sea Bore the strange melody Of an island that sings. *He made you all fair, You in purple and gold, You in silver and green, Till no eye has seen Without love can behold.* I have you left behind In the path of the past, With the white breath of flowers, With the best of God's hours, I have left you at last. |
| ANNABEL LEE |
| EDGAR ALLAN POE |
| GROSS INDECENCY: THE THREE TRIALS OF OSCAR WILDE |
| MOISES KAUFMAN |
| QUOTING A LETTER FROM OSCAR WILDE TO HIS LOVER, LORD ALFRED DOUGLAS |
My own dear Boy, Your sonnet is quite lovely, and it is a marvel that those rose lips of yours should have been made no less for music of song than for madness of kisses. *Your slim gilt soul walks between passion and poetry.* *I know Hyacinthus, whom Apollo loved so madly, was you in Greek days.* Why are you alone in London, and when do you go to Salisbury? *Do go there to cool your hands in the gray twilight if gothic things, then come here whenever you like.* It is a lovely place--it only lacks you Always with undying love, Yours, Oscar |
| I chose to include this verse in Harry's response to Blaise in Chapter 28 of The Master Plan mostly because of its reference to the Slytherin house colors. I felt it made a fitting compliment to Blaise, without being quite as grandoise as anything Blaise had written. It is fairly straightforward, which works as Harry is less cultured and far more simple than Blaise. |
| I used several lines from this in Blaise's letter to Harry mostly because of the romantic nature of the writing. It is truly a letter meant to captivate, and its vivid prose succeeded wooing ME spectacularly. I felt Oscar and 'Bosie' were ideal muses for a slash fic. |
| This is one of my favorite poems--the passion, powerful lines, the hungry repetition, and the elegant rhyme scheme have impressed me since the day I read this poem back in fourth grade. I felt having Blaise use it in his writing gave his letter a bit of a dark, cunning twist. It is very seductive, but anyone who realized where the line came from might also remember the essentially ominous, obsessive tone of the work. |