“And now have I not told you that what you mistake for madness is but over-acuteness of the senses? -- now, I say, there came to my ears a low, dull, quick sound, such as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I knew that sound too. It was the beating of the old man's heart. It increased my fury, as the beating of a drum stimulates the soldier into courage.”
More from Edgar Allan Poe
“We loved with a love that was more than love.”
“The life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of…”
“...for love like mine can never be gotten over.”
“…Years of love have been forgot In the hatred of a minute.”