1. |
Annabel Lee
06:01
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It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of Annabel Lee;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
She was a child and I was a child
In this kingdom by the sea,
But we loved with a love that was more than love,
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In the kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud by night,
chilling my Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,
Went envying her and me;
Yes! - that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud one night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we,
Of many far wiser than we,
And neither the angels in Heaven above
Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Annabel Lee
Annabel Lee
Annabel Lee
Annabel Lee
For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.
Annabel Lee
Annabel Lee
Annabel Lee
Annabel Lee
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2. |
Perfect Rest
05:42
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Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She left the rosy morn,
Left the fields of corn;
Twilight cold and lorn,
Cold and lorn.
Through sleep, through sleep
As through a veil
The sky looks pale,
The sky looks pale.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart's core
Till time shall cease.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
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3. |
Christabel
04:50
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’Twas midnight by the castle wall,
And loud the owlet’s cry did fall;
Beneath the oak, in silence pale,
Knelt gentle maid Christabel.
Then from the root and hollow shade
There rose a bright and stately maid;
“Stretch forth thy hand, and succour me,
A weary dame in misery”.
Jesu, Maria, shield her well-
Who walketh now with Christabel?
So fair the face, so dark the spell,
who walked that night with Christabel?
Through moonlit gate and silent stone,
She led the stranger darkly home;
The mastiff moaned, the fire burned high,
As though it marked her passing by.
The silver lamp burned low and blue,
And cold the midnight vapours grew;
“Thou know’st the mark, yet none may tell-
Thy speech is mine, O Christabel”.
With open eyes the maid there lay,
As one whom dreams held fast till day;
She smiled and wept beneath the spell,
In fearful trance was Christabel.
Jesu, Maria, shield her well-
Who walketh now with Christabel?
So fair the face, so dark the spell,
Who walked that night with Christabel?
Now dawn is white on roof and stone,
Yet Christabel is not her own;
She smiled and wept beneath the spell,
Still dream-bound there lay Christabel.
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4. |
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Immortal Moon, in maiden dream the shine;
Dispense thy beams, divine Latona's child.
Thy silver rays all grosser things define,
And hide harsh Truth in sweet illusion mild.
In thy soft light, the city of unrest
That stands so squalid in thy brother's glare,
Throws off its habit, and in silence blest,
Becomes a vision, sparkling bright and fair.
The modern world, with all its care and pain
The smoky streets, the loathsome clanging mills,
Face 'neath thy beams, Selene, and again
We dream as shepherds,
as shepherds on Chaldean’s hills.
Thy light reveals the shapes no day hath shown,
Pale gods that move where mortal senses fade.
Their whispers rise beneath thy silver throne,
And haunt the dreams thy tender beams have made.
I feel their gaze where mortal eyes grow dim,
Cold voices weave the silence of the sphere.
My soul drifts out beyond the planet’s rim,
And knows too well what men should never hear.
The modern world, beneath thy ghostly reign,
Lies veiled in light no mortal conscience stills.
Face 'neath thy beams, Selene, and again
We dream as shadows,
as shadows on forgotten hills.
Take heed, Diana, of my humble plea;
Convey me where my happiness can last,
Draw me against the tide of Time's rough sea,
And let my spirit rest amidst the past.
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5. |
Spectral Power
06:21
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The steeples are white in the wild moonlight,
And the trees have a silver glare;
Past the chimneys high see the vampires fly,
And the harpies of upper air,
That flutter and laugh and stare.
For the village dead to the moon outspread
Never shone in the sunset's gleam,
But grew out of the deep that the dead years keep
Where the rivers of madness stream
Down the gulfs to a pit of dream.
Not a breath of the strange grey gods of change
That tore from the past its own
Can quicken this hour, when a spectral power
Spreads sleep o'er the cosmic throne,
And looses the vast unknown.
So here again stretch the vale and plain
That moons long-forgotten saw,
And the dead leap gay in the pallid ray,
Sprung out of the tomb's black maw
To shake all the world with awe.
And all that the morn shall greet forlorn,
The ugliness and the pest
Of rows where thick rise the stones and brick,
Shall some day be with the rest,
And brood with the shades unblest.
So here again stretch the vale and plain
That moons long-forgotten saw,
And the dead leap gay in the pallid ray,
Sprung out of the tomb's black maw
To shake all the world with awe.
And the ghouls of the churchyard wail
For harvests that fly and fail.
For new and old alike in the fold
Of horror and death are penn’d,
For the hounds of Time to rend.
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6. |
Who Is This Drawing Near
05:54
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Ruins stood by the shore,
Where the sea-wind blew cold,
Broken arches arose,
Dark as tales long of old;
Hidden deep in the sand,
lay a whistle of dread,
black, with words on its band,
Like a call from the dead.
Back in my room at dusk,
By the wavering light,
I brushed away the sand,
Till strange words came to sight;
Then I lifted it high,
Blew a long note so shrill,
And the wind outside
In a moment stood still.
Who is this drawing near,
Who walks beneath the sky?
What stirs the dunes in fear,
Who answers to my cry?
Out past the black sea-sand,
It comes with silent tread;
It came not by command,
But by the note I spread.
A boy looked at the tide,
And saw a white form fly,
A shape all pale and wide,
Beneath the dimming sky;
That night the casement shook,
The bedclothes stirred in dread,
And something stooped to look,
Beside the vacant bed.
The other bed grew tall,
And billowed up in white,
Its curtains touched the wall,
And swelled before my sight;
No human eyes were there,
No living lips to speak,
Just linen, cold as air,
Bent low above my cheek.
Who is this drawing near,
Who walks beneath the sky?
What stirs the dunes in fear,
Who answers to my cry?
Out past the black sea-sand,
It comes with silent tread;
It came not by command,
But by the note I spread.
But still when night-winds rise,
I wake in freezing dread,
I see those sightless eyes,
And whiteness by the bed;
No prayer can make it fade,
No dawn can bring release,
It lingers in the shade,
And robs the room of peace.
Who is this drawing near,
Who walks beneath the sky?
What stirs the dunes in fear,
Who answers to my cry?
Out past the black sea-sand,
It comes with silent tread;
It came not by command,
But by the note I spread.
Who is this drawing near,
Who walks beneath the sky?
What stirs the dunes in fear,
Who answers to my cry?
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Bynar Brighton And Hove, UK
Bynar creates music shaped by Gothic literature and early twentieth-century horror. His work takes the form of concept releases adapting poems and texts by H. P. Lovecraft, Edgar Allan Poe, and Christina Rossetti. His catalogue also includes radio production, DJ work, and mashup projects. ... more
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featured on Bandcamp Radio Jun 20, 2025
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