Morella was a friend of mine
I never loved her, but we married
She made me happy in a way I can't explain
A kind of mystic happiness
Talking of philosophy we spent many hours
May awareness of yourself still survive to death?
I was very happy then, listenin' to her
Till a day, a fatal day, joy was turned to hate!
Hating my Morella I wished her to die
Illness fell upon her, she began to fade
She told me to listen, "I've something to tell:
Who you never loved in life, you will love in death"
"This is the day of days, the day to live and die, for all the daughters of death and sky
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