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Sun, that hast not seen a loftier head wax hoary,
Earth, which hast not shown the sun a nobler birth,
Time, that hast not on thy scroll defiled and gory
One man's name writ brighter in its whole wide girth,
Witness, till the final years fulfil their story,
Till the stars break off the music of their mirth,
What among the sons of men was this man's glory,
What the vesture of his soul revealed on earth.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] _La Pitie Supreme._ 1879.
[2] _Religions et Religion._ 1880.
[3] _L'Ane._ 1880.
[4] _Les Quatre Vents de l'Esprit._ I. _Le Livre satirique._ II. _Le
Livre dramatique._ III. _Le Livre lyrique._ IV. _Le Livre epique._ 1881.
[5] _Les Deux Trouvailles de Gallus._ I. _Margarita, comedie._ II.
_Esca, drame._
[6]
Je suis une hirondelle etrange, car j'emigre
Du cote de l'hiver.
_Le Livre Lyrique_, liii.
EUTHANATOS
IN MEMORY OF MRS. THELLUSSON
Forth of our ways and woes,
Forth of the winds and snows,
A white soul soaring goes,
Winged like a dove:
So sweet, so pure, so clear,
So heavenly tempered here,
Love need not hope or fear her changed above:
Ere dawned her day to die,
So heavenly, that on high
Change could not glorify
Nor death refine her:
Pure gold of perfect love,
On earth like heaven's own dove,
She cannot wear, above, a smile diviner.
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