Higgledy-piggledy, many a year ago, I and a maiden named Annabel Lee
lived in an amorous interconnectedness down in a kingdom that sat by the sea.
I was a child and she was a child, but summing our love yielded more than its parts --
therefore the seraphim jealously coveted my and my Annabel's childish hearts.
This was the reason a wind from the overcast chilled her and killed her and bore her away,
carried by countrymen highborn and beautiful, into a sepulchre down by the waves.
Not so contentedly, not half as happily, up in their Heaven the angels conferred,
sent us a tempest to chill her by nighttime -- yes, that was the argument, all men averred.
Under the ocean, the antidiluvian demons, and angels in Heaven above,
never can sever my soul from the soul of my younger, more foolish, more beautiful love:
Higgledy piggledy, moonbeams and starlight, her eyes find me dreaming, my Annabel Lee,
there in her sepulchre all of a night-tide, I lie with my bride in her tomb by the sea.
