For Annie - Edgar Allan Poe 1849 (Read by Gavin Friday - Closed on Account of Rabies Compilation)

For Annie - Edgar Allan Poe 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. The moaning and groaning, The sighing and sobbing, Are quieted now, With that horrible throbbing At heart:-ah, that horrible, Horrible throbbing! The sickness-the nausea- The pitiless pain- Have ceased, with the fever That maddened my brain- With the fever called “Living“ That burned in my brain. And oh! of all tortures That torture the worst Has abated-the terrible Torture of thirst For