La Belle Annabel

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;

But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this is why I sojourn here,
Alone and palely loitering,
Though the sedge is withered from the lake,
And no birds sing.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

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Mosaic Poetry from the works:

“I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud” by William Wordsworth (1770 – 1850)
“Annabel Lee” by Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849)
“La Belle Dame sans Merci” by John Keats (1795 – 1821)
“Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas (1914 – 1953)