Deborah Lee

(Parody of Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe)

‘Tis a dozen or so of years ago,
Somewhere in the west countree,
That a nice girl lived, as ye Hoosiers know
By the name of Deborah Lee:
Her sister was loved by Edgar Poe,
But Deborah was loved by me.

Now I was green, and she was green,
As a summer’s squash might be,
And we loved as warmly as other folks,
I and my Deborah Lee,
With a love that the lasses of Hoosierdom
Coveted her and me.

But somehow it happened a long time ago,
In the aguish West countree,
That a chill March morning gave the shakes
To my beautiful Deborah Lee;
And the grim steam doctor (drat him!) came
And bore her away from me,
The doctor and death, old partners they
In the aguish countree.

The angels wanted her in Heaven
(But they never asked for me),
And that is the reason, I rather guess,
In the aguish West countree,
That the cold March wind and the doctor and death,
Took off my Deborah Lee
My beautiful Deborah Lee
From the warm sunshine and the opening flower,
And bore her away from me.

Our love was as strong as a six horse team,
Or the love of folks older than we,
Or possibly wiser than we;
But death, with the’aid of doctor and steam,
Was rather too many for me;
He closed the peepers and silenced the breath,
Of my sweetheart Deborah Lee,
And her form lies cold in the prairie mould,
Silent and cold—Ah me !

The foot of the hunter shall press her grave,
And the prairie’s sweet wild flowers,
In their odorous beauty around it wave,
Through all the sunny hours,
The still bright summer hours;
And the birds shall sing in the tufted grass,
And the nectar-laden bee,
With his dreamy hum on his gauze wings pass,
She wakes no more to me;
Ah! never more to me;

Though the wild birds sing and the wild flowers spring,
She wakes no more to me.
Yet oft in the hush of the dim still night,
A vision of beauty I see,
Gliding soft to my bedside,a phantom of light,
Dear, beautiful Deborah Lee,
My bride that was to be;

And I wake to mourn that the doctor and death,
And the cold March wind should stop the breath
Of my darling Deborah Lee
Adorable Deborah Lee
That angels should want her up in Heaven,
Before they wanted me.

Anonymous. American Paper.

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