The first line might stand,” said I, “for you are only fourteen, and I but one-and-twenty--which is quite young youth when compared to the age of the earth. But the third and fourth lines are appalling. And, alas, you are not my Annabel Lee. Always you make me feel, indeed, that nothing is mine. And no, surely the winged seraphs in heaven do not envy you and me for anything.” “If they do,” said my friend Annabel Lee, “then heaven must needs be very poorly furnished.” I repeated: “‘And this was the reason that long ago, In this kingdom by the sea, A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling My beautiful Annabel Lee, So that her high-born kinsman came And bore her away from me, To shut her up in a sepulcher In this kingdom by the sea.’ I imagine, times,” said I, “that a chill wind has sometime come out of a cloud by night and gone over you. No high-born kinsman comes to carry you away--but I shiver at the possibility. Will a high-born kinsman come to carry you away--shall you be shut into a gray stone sepulcher?” “No kinsman, high-or low-born, is coming to carry me away,” said my friend Annabel Lee. “Kinsmen do not carry away things that have no intrinsic value.” “No, I believe they don’t,” said I, and felt relieved. I repeated: “‘The angels, not half so happy in heaven, Went envying her and me, Yes! that was the reason, (as all men know In this kingdom by the sea,) That the wind came out of the cloud by night, Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.’ But no,” said I; “the angels in heaven are surely more than half so happy as you and I.” “More than half,” said my friend Annabel Lee. “They need not send clouds from heaven on that account.” I repeated: “‘But our love it was stronger by far than the love Of those who were older than we, Of many far wiser than we; And neither the angels in heaven above, Nor the demons down under the sea, Can ever dissever my soul from the soul Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.’ If you loved anything,” said I, “’twould be stronger by far than that of some who are older, and of very many who may be wiser.” “I don’t think wisdom and age have to do with it,” said my friend Annabel Lee. “And the angels in heaven would count for very little in it,” said I. “No, certainly not the angels in heaven,” said my friend Annabel Lee. “Nor the demons down under the sea?” I asked. “I don’t know about _them_,” said my friend Annabel Lee. I repeated: “‘For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes Of the beautiful Annabel Lee; And so all the night-tide, I lie down by the side Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride In her sepulcher there by the sea, In her tomb by the sounding sea.’