THE NEW "ULALUME."

The skies they were ashen and sober,

The leaves they were crisped and sere,—

" " " withering " "

It was night in the lonesome October

Of my most immemorial year;

It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,—

" " down " " dark tarn " "

In the misty mid region of Weir,—

" " ghoul-haunted woodland " "

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