Page:My Life and Loves.djvu/203



Lotus and Lethe on my lips like dew, And shed around and over and under me Thick darkness and the insuperable sea."

I haven't seen the poem since and there may be verbal inaccuracies in my version; but the music and passion of the verses enthralled me and when I came to "The Leper", the last stanzas brought hot tears to my eyes and in the "Garden of Proserpine", I heard my own soul speaking with divine if hopeless assurance. Was there ever such poetry? Even the lighter verses were, charming:

And then the gay defiance:

And the divine songs to Hugo and to Whitman and the superb "Dedication": the last verse of it a miracle: