e" he gave to
the maiden in the new poem the pleasant sounding name of "Annabel Lee."
Out of these days too, came "the Bells" and the exquisite sonnet to his
"more than Mother."

One flash of the false light that had lured him reached The Dreamer at
Fordham. He held a letter addressed to him in the familiar handwriting
of Helen Whitman long in his hand without opening it. This flame was
burned out, he told himself--why rake its cold ashes? Yet he felt that
nothing that she could say would have power to disturb his new peace.
Still the Mother, though she kept her own counsel, trembled for herself
and for him as she was aware (without looking up from her sewing) that
he had broken the seal. Some minutes of tense stillness passed--then,

"Shall I read you her letter?" he asked.

"As you will."

"Then I will!--It is in verse and the place from which she dates it is,

"Our Island of Dreams," which she explains in a sub-heading is

"By the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn"

--a line which she has borrowed from Keats. This is what she writes:

"Tell him I lingered alone on the shore,
Where we parted, in sorrow, to meet nevermore;
The night-wind blew cold on my desolate heart
But colder those wild words of doom, 'Ye must part!'

"O'er the dark, heaving waters, I sent forth a cry;
Save the wail of those waters there came no reply.
I longed, like a bird, o'er the billows to flee,
From our lone island home and the moan of the sea:

"Away,--far away--from the wild ocean shore,
Where the waves ever murmur, 'No more, nevermore,'
Where I wake, in the wild noon of midnight, to hear
The lone song of the surges, so mournful and drear.

"Where the clouds that now veil from us heaven's fair light,
Their soft, silver lining turn forth on the night;
When time shall the vapors of falsehood dispel
He shall know if I loved him; but never how well."

Silence followed the reading of the poem-letter. Finally the mother
asked,

"Will you go back?"

He placed the letter upon the top of a pile in the same handwriting,
tied them together with a bit of ribbon and laid them in a small drawer
of his desk. Then, rising, he leaned over the back of "Muddie's" chair
and lightly touching her seamed forehead with his lips replied,

"Quoth the raven, nevermore!"

Then took up a garland of evergreen which he had been maki