The Works of Edgar Allan Poe - Volume 2


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filling the air which I breathed with perfume from the censers of the  
angels. And, with these words upon her lips, she yielded up her innocent  
life, putting an end to the first epoch of my own.  
Thus far I have faithfully said. But as I pass the barrier in Times  
path, formed by the death of my beloved, and proceed with the second  
era of my existence, I feel that a shadow gathers over my brain, and I  
mistrust the perfect sanity of the record. But let me on.--Years dragged  
themselves along heavily, and still I dwelled within the Valley of the  
Many-Colored Grass; but a second change had come upon all things. The  
star-shaped flowers shrank into the stems of the trees, and appeared no  
more. The tints of the green carpet faded; and, one by one, the ruby-red  
asphodels withered away; and there sprang up, in place of them, ten  
by ten, dark, eye-like violets, that writhed uneasily and were ever  
encumbered with dew. And Life departed from our paths; for the tall  
flamingo flaunted no longer his scarlet plumage before us, but flew  
sadly from the vale into the hills, with all the gay glowing birds that  
had arrived in his company. And the golden and silver fish swam down  
through the gorge at the lower end of our domain and bedecked the sweet  
river never again. And the lulling melody that had been softer than  
the wind-harp of Aeolus, and more divine than all save the voice of  
Eleonora, it died little by little away, in murmurs growing lower and  
lower, until the stream returned, at length, utterly, into the solemnity  
of its original silence. And then, lastly, the voluminous cloud uprose,  
388  


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