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Poems of Paul Verlaine   By: (1844-1896)

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First Page:

POEMS OF PAUL VERLAINE

By Paul Verlaine

Translated by Gertrude Hall

Pictured by Henry McCarter

[Illustration: "Portrait of Paul Verlaine"]

Contents

I. FÊTES GALANTES

Clair de Lune Sur L'Herbe L'Allée A la Promenade Le Faune Mandoline L'Amour Par Terre En Sourdine Colloque Sentimental

II. LA BONNE CHANSON

Since Shade Relents, Since 'Tis Indeed the Day Before Your Light Quite Fail O'er the Wood's Brow The Scene Behind the Carriage Windowpanes The Rosy Hearth, The Lamplight's Narrow Beam It Shall Be, Then, Upon a Summer's Day

III. ROMANCES SANS PAROLES

ARIETTES OUBLIÉES It Weeps In My Heart The Keyboard, Over Which Two Slim Hands Float O Heavy, Heavy My Despair The Trees' Reflection in the Misty Stream

PAYSAGES BELGES Bruxelles

BIRDS IN THE NIGHT You Were Not Over patient with Me, Dear But You Will Own That I was in the Right And Wherefore Should I Lay My Heartwounds Bare? Now I Do Not Intend What Were the Gain? I See You Still. I Softly Pushed the door I See You Still. I Softly Dressed in a Summer Dress Some Moments I'm the Tempest driven Bark

AQUARELLES Green Spleen Streets

IV. SAGESSE

What Sayst Thou, Traveller, Of All Thou Saw'st Afar? The False Fair Days Give Ear Unto the Gentle Lay I've Seen Again the One Child: Verily "Son, Thou Must Love Me! See " My Saviour Said Hope Shines As in a Stable a Wisp of Straw Sleep, Darksome, Deep The Sky Blue Smiles Above the Roof It Is You, It Is You, Poor Better Thoughts 'Tis the Feast of Corn, 'Tis the Feast of Bread

V. JADIS ET NAGUÈRE JADIS Prologue Langueur NAGUÈRE Prologue

VI. PARALLÈLEMENT

Impression Fausse

VII. POÈMES SATURNIENS

Prologue

MELANCHOLIA Nevermore Après Trois Ans Mon Rêve Familier A Une Femme

PAYSAGES TRISTES Chanson D'Automne Le Rossignol

CAPRICES Il Bacio

ÉPILOGUE

Fêtes Galantes

[Illustration: "Clair De Lune"]

CLAIR DE LUNE.

Your soul is as a moonlit landscape fair, Peopled with maskers delicate and dim, That play on lutes and dance and have an air Of being sad in their fantastic trim.

The while they celebrate in minor strain Triumphant love, effective enterprise, They have an air of knowing all is vain, And through the quiet moonlight their songs rise,

The melancholy moonlight, sweet and lone, That makes to dream the birds upon the tree, And in their polished basins of white stone The fountains tall to sob with ecstasy.

SUR L'HERBE.

"The abbé rambles." "You, marquis, Have put your wig on all awry." "This wine of Cyprus kindles me Less, my Camargo, than your eye!"

"My passion" "Do, mi, sol, la, si." "Abbé, your villany lies bare." "Mesdames, I climb up yonder tree And fetch a star down, I declare."

"Let each kiss his own lady, then The others." "Would that I were, too, A lap dog!" "Softly, gentlemen!" "Do, mi." "The moon!" "Hey, how d'ye do?"

L' ALLÉE.

Powdered and rouged as in the sheepcotes' day, Fragile 'mid her enormous ribbon bows, Along the shaded alley, where green grows The moss on the old seats, she wends her way With mincing graces and affected airs, Such as more oft a petted parrot wears. Her long gown with the train is blue; the fan She spreads between her jewelled fingers slim Is merry with a love scene, of so dim Suggestion, her eyes smile the while they scan. Blonde; dainty nose; plump, cherry lips, divine With pride unconscious. Subtler, certainly, Than is the mouche there set to underline The rather foolish brightness of the eye.

A LA PROMENADE... Continue reading book >>




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