SYLVIE: SOUVENIRS DU VALOIS TRANSLATED FROM GÉRARD DE NERVAL BY LUCIE PAGE Portland, Maine THOMAS B. MOSHER 1896 * * * * * GÉRARD DE NERVAL. Of all that were thy prisons--ah, untamed, Ah, light and sacred soul!--none holds thee now; No wall, no bar, no body of flesh, but thou Art free and happy in the lands unnamed, Within whose gates, on weary wings and maimed, Thou still would'st bear that mystic golden bough The Sybil doth to singing men allow, Yet thy report folk heeded not, but blamed. And they would smile and wonder, seeing where Thou stood'st, to watch light leaves, or clouds, or wind, Dreamily murmuring a ballad air, Caught from the Valois peasants, dost thou find A new life gladder than the old times were, A love more fair than Sylvie, and as kind? ANDREW LANG. * * * * * CONTENTS SYLVIE ET AURÉLIE.--ANDREW LANG GÉRARD DE NERVAL SYLVIE: I A WASTED NIGHT II ADRIENNE III RESOLVE IV A VOYAGE TO CYTHERA V THE VILLAGE VI OTHYS VII CHAÂLIS VIII THE BALL AT LOISY IX HERMENONVILLE X BIG CURLY-HEAD XI RETURN XII FATHER DODU XIII AURÉLIE XIV THE LAST LEAF APPENDIX _SYLVIE ET AURÉLIE._ _IN MEMORY OF GÉRARD DE NERVAL._ _Two loves there were, and one was born_ _Between the sunset and the rain;_ _Her singing voice went through the corn,_ _Her dance was woven 'neath the thorn,_ _On grass the fallen blossoms stain;_ _And suns may set and moons may wane,_ _But this love comes no more again._ _There were two loves, and one made white_ _Thy singing lips and golden hair;_ _Born of the city's mire and light,_ _The shame and splendour of the night,_ _She trapped and fled thee unaware;_ _Not through the lamplight and the rain_ _Shalt thou behold this love again._ _Go forth and seek, by wood and bill,_ _Thine ancient love of dawn and dew;_ _There comes no voice from mere or rill,_ _Her dance is over, fallen still_ _The ballad burdens that she knew:_ _And thou must wait for her in vain,_ _Till years bring back thy youth again._ _That other love, afield, afar_ _Fled the light love, with lighter feet._ _Nay, though thou seek where gravesteads are,_ _And flit in dreams from star to star,_ _That dead love thou shalt never meet,_ _Till through bleak dawn and blowing rain_ _Thy soul shall find her soul again._ ANDREW LANG. Gérard DE NERVAL Il a toujours cherché dans le monde ce que le monde ne pouvait plus lui donner. LUDOVIC HALÉVY.