Who of all Time's children could this be playing uncompanioned by the
sea? And at a little distance betwixt me and her in the softly-mounded
sand her spade had already scrawled in large, ungainly capitals, the
answer--"Annabel Lee." The little flounced black frock, the tresses of
black hair, the small, beautiful dark face--this then was Annabel Lee;
and that bright, phantom city I had seen--that was the vanishing
mockery of her kingdom.
I called her from where I stood--"Annabel Lee!" She lifted her head
and shook back her hair, and gazed at me startled and intent. I went
nearer.
"You are a very lonely little girl," I said.
"I am building in the sand," she answered.
"A castle?"
She shook her head.
"It was in dreams," she said, flushing darkly.
"What kind of dream was it in then?"
"Oh! I often dream it; and I build it in the sand. But there's never
time: the sea comes back."
"Was the tide quite high when you began?" I asked; for now it was low.
"Just that much from the stones," she said; "I waited for it ever so
long."
"It has a long way to come yet," I said; "you will finish it _this_
time, I dare say.
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