Poem by Edgar Allan Poe

To F——s S. O——d.

Thou wouldst be loved? — then let thy heart
  From its present pathway part not!
Being everything which now thou art,
  Be nothing which thou art not.
So with the world thy gentle ways,
  Thy grace, thy more than beauty,
Shall be an endless theme of praise,
  And love—a simple duty.

1. To the River
2. In Youth I have Known One
3. Sancta Maria
4. The Divine Right of Kings
5. Dreams

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