Nov 4, 2014
For Annie - 1849
Thank Heaven! the crisis -- The danger is past, And the lingering illness Is over at last -- And the fever called "Living" Is conquered at last. Sadly, I know I am shorn of my strength, And no muscle I move As I lie at full length -- But no matter! -- I feel I am better at length. And I rest so composedly, Now, in my bed, That any beholder Might fancy me dead -- Might start at beholding me, Thinking me dead.
I think this excerpt could have just came out of a depressed teenager's mouth as easily as Poe's. I know that school has a similar effect as death sometimes. It's not a literal translation, but I think if Poe was in modern day high school, he would have shared the same opinion.