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by Edgar Allan Poe
The happiest day--the happiest hour
My sear'd and blighted heart hath known,
The highest hope of pride and power,
I feel hath flown.
Of power! said I? yes! such I ween;
But they have vanish'd long, alas!
The visions of my youth have been--
But let them pass.
And, pride, what have I now with thee?
Another brow may even inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me--
Be still, my spirit!
The happiest day--the happiest hour
Mine eyes shall see--have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel--have been:
But were that hope of pride and power
Now offer'd, with the pain
Even THEN I felt--that brightest hour
I would not live again:
For on its wing was dark alloy,
And, as it flutter'd--fell
An essence--powerful to destroy
A soul that knew it well.