Ah broken is the golden bowl！ the spirit flown forever！

    Let the bell toll¹！——a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river；

    And， Guy De Vere， hast thou no tear？——weep now or never more！

    See！ on yon drear and rigid² bier low lies thy love， Lenore！

    Come！ let the burial rite³ be read——the funeral song be sung！——

    An anthem⁴ for the queenliest dead that ever died so young——

    A dirge⁵ for her the doubly dead in that she died so young.

    "Wretches⁶！ ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride，

    "And when she fell in feeble health， ye blessed her——that she died！

    "How shall the ritual， then， be read？——the requiem⁷ how be sung

    "By you——by yours， the evil eye，——by yours， the slanderous⁸ tongue

    "That did to death the innocent that died， and died so young？"

    Peccavimus； but rave⁹ not thus！ and let a Sabbath song

    Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel so wrong！

    The sweet Lenore hath "gone before，" with Hope， that flew beside

    Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride——

    For her， the fair and debonair¹⁰， that now so lowly lies，

    The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes——

    The life still there， upon her hair——the death upon her eyes.

    "Avaunt！ to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise，

    "But waft¹¹ the angel on her flight with a P？an of old days！

    "Let no bell toll！——lest her sweet soul， amid its hallowed mirth，

    "Should catch the note， as it doth float up from the damnéd Earth.

    "To friends above， from fiends below， the indignant ghost is riven——

    "From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven——

    "From grief and groan¹²， to a golden throne， beside the King of Heaven."