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For Laetitia, beaute des beautes.


O beautiful Laetitia,

Your form by Nature made,

Lovelier than the flowers

That grace a summer glade,

What sweet and tender torture

It is to see your eyes,

Though only in an image;

My heart they crystallize

And shatter it as surely

As steel must vanquish glass.

O merciless Laetitia,

My torments never pass!

Mellifluous as music,

Your name is joy enshrined;

A richly perfumed blossom

Around my soul entwined.

How wonderful, how exquisite,

How glorious are you;

A star that shines eternal

For all the world to view!

O kindly fair Laetitia,

If these poor lines you read,

I live and die a poet;

A joyful man indeed!


They praise your name in old Marseilles

And in Saint Jean de Luz,

Where sunshine on a summer’s day

Cannot inspire the Muse

As surely as the thought of you

Inspires my noblest art,

As surely as the love of you

Sustains my beating heart.


This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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