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"Sap rising and flower growing, Your childhood is a bower: Let my fingers wander in the foam Where the rosebud shines. Leave me, among the clear grass, Drink the drops of dew Whose soft flower is watered; For whom pleasure, my dear, Illumine your candid brow, Like dawn azure blue. "

"Though I go to you ceaselessly along dream paths, the sum of those trysts is less than a single glimpse granted in the waking world."