Edgar Allan Poe(1809–1849) · Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane, and Minor Poems · 1829
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.