• I heed not that my earthly lot Hath - little of Earth in it - That years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute: - I mourn not that the desolate Are happier, sweet, than I, But that you sorrow for my fate Who am a passer by.

    Edgar Allan Poe, Thomas Ollive Mabbott (1969). “Complete Poems”, p.137, University of Illinois Press