Was fair Lenore; a lonely orphan, she
Dwelt in that Castle by the rushing Rhine
In days of tournament and chivalry:
A creature fitted to inspire the free
And noble passion of a truthful breast
And brave bold heart, whose inbred courtesy
And gentler feelings, would seek out a rest,
Mid valour’s peaceful pause, in woman’s love possessed.
Oh! she was beautiful! a thing of light
Of life, of gladness and unsullied smiles;