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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

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

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.