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[Text: Edgar Allan Poe, "To M——" (E), The
Works of the Late Edgar Allan Poe, vol. II, 1850, p. 51.]
[page 51:]
TO ——.
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I HEED not that my earthly lot
Hath —— little of Earth in it —
That years of love have been forgot
In the hatred of a minute : —
I mourn not that the desolate
Are happier, sweet, than I,
But that you sorrow for my fate
Who am a passer by.
~~~ End of Text ~~~
[S:1 - Works, 1850]
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