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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.  The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes.  1917.
 
Mon Rêve Familier
By Paul Verlaine (1844–1896)
 
Translation of Gertrude Hall

OFT do I dream this strange and penetrating dream:
  An unknown woman, whom I love, who loves me well,
  Who does not every time quite change, nor yet quite dwell
The same,—and loves me well, and knows me as I am.
 
For she knows me! My heart, clear as a crystal beam        5
  To her alone, ceases to be inscrutable
  To her alone, and she alone knows to dispel
My grief, cooling my brow with her tears’ gentle stream.
 
Is she of favor dark or fair?—I do not know.
Her name? All I remember is that it doth flow        10
  Softly, as do the names of them we loved and lost.
 
Her eyes are like the statues’,—mild, grave, and wide;
And for her voice she has as if it were the ghost
  Of other voices,—well-loved voices that have died.
 
 
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