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