Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1906-03-17

READY written, waited Tor tneln-nhyi
called aloud for them, and did not want
any others, like lips that wait for sls'
ter lips to kiss them. And this indls'
pensable, fatal phrase lie had for
gotten; he did not even recall that he
had ever known it! Surely there was
some mystery in this, unused the poet
INCREASINGLY, with bitter melancholy
oh, the pang of interrupted poems!
sitting Mt the edge Of the forest
near the limpid fountains where the
fairies have the habit Of dancing OF an
evening in the light Of the stars.
~.
Now rs he sat once musing under
the bOughs Of n tree, the wicked, THEY
ing fairy saw him and loved him.
One Is not a fairy for nothing, and Il
fairy does not stand on ceremony.
Swifter than a butterfly kisses a rose
she put her lips upon his lips, and the
poet, greatly occupied though he was
with his ode, could not help but feel
the heavenliness Of her career. Blue
and rose diamond grottoes opened up
in the depths Of the earth, gardens Of
lilies spread ont there, luminous as
the stars; thlther the poet and the
fairy We're drawn in n chariot of gold
in their fight; and for a very long
time they loved each other, forgetful Of
all but their kisses and smiles.
Gnomes dressed in violet satin, elves
attired in n misty haze, performed
dances before them that fell in rhythm
with the music of unseen orchestras,
while fitting hands that had no arms
brought them ruby baskets of snow
white fruit, perfumed like a white
rose and like q virgin bosom. Or, to
please the fairy more, the poet recited,
while the cords Of a theOrbo, the most
beautiful verses his fancy could con-
Ivne.
Fairy that she was. she had never
known joy comparable to this of be-
ing sung to by a beautiful young man
who invented new songs every day,
and when he grew silent and she felt
the breath Of his mouth very near her,
passing through her hair, she melted
away with tenderness.
Their happiness seemed to be with
out end. Days passed by, many,
many, days, but nothing occurred to
disturb their joy. Nevertheless, she
had moments of gloom, when she
would sit muslng, with her cheek on
her hand and her hair falling down in
streams to her hips.
80 Queenw he cried, "what is it
that makes you sad, and what more
can you desire, seeing that we are so
happy in the midst of all our pleas
ures, you who are all powerful, you
who are so beautiful?" She did not
answer at first, but when he insisted
she sighed and said: alas! one al
ways ends by suffering the evil that
one has inflicted on others. Alas! 1 am
sad because you have never told me:
4 love your"
He did not pronounce the words,
but he uttered q cry Of joy at having
found again the end Of his poem. In
vain the fairy attempted to retain
him in the blue and rose-diamond grot-
toes, in the gardens of lilies that were
as luminous as the stars. He returned
to earth, completed, wrote and pub
llsheu his ode, in which the men and
women of the afflicted county hrtJtHsny
again the divine words that they had
lost. .
Now there were rendezvouses again
in the lanes, and warm, loving con-
at the conjugal windows.
1t is because of poetry that the
kisses are sweet, and lovers say moth
ing that the poets have not sung.