My Library

I do faint thereforo. L’ENVOI “When to the new eyes of thee All things by immortal power, Near or far, Hiddenly To each other linked are, That thou canst not stir a flower Without troubling of a star; When thy song is shield and mirror To the fair snake-curled Pain, Where thou dar’st affront her terror That on her thou mayst attain Persean conquest; seek no more, O seek no more! Pass the gates of Luthany, tread the region Elenore.” —Francis Thompson.