VERLAINE’S “FORGOTTEN AIRS.” No. I. “The wind in the plain Suspends its breath.”—FAVART. ’Tis ecstasy languishing, Amorous fatigue, Of woods all the shudderings Embraced by the breeze, ’Tis the choir of small voices Towards the grey trees. Oh the frail and fresh murmuring! The twitter and buzz, The soft cry resembling That’s expired by the grass ... Oh, the roll of the pebbles ’Neath waters that pass! Oh, this soul that is groaning In sleepy complaint! In us is it moaning? In me and in you? Low anthem exhaling While soft falls the dew. VERLAINE’S “FORGOTTEN AIRS.” No. VIII. In the unending Dulness of this land, Uncertain the snow Is gleaming like sand. No kind of brightness In copper-hued sky, The moon you might see Now live and now die. Grey float the oak trees— Cloudlike they seem— Of neighbouring forests, The mists in between. Wolves hungry and lean, And famishing crow, What happens to you When acid winds blow? In the unending Dulness of this land, Uncertain the snow Is gleaming like sand. SONG BY MAETERLINCK. When he went away, (Then I heard the door) When he went away, On her lips a smile there lay ... Back he came to her, (Then I heard the lamp) Back he came to her, Someone else was there ... It was death I met, (And I heard her soul) It was death I met, For her he’s waiting yet ... Someone came to say, (Child, I am afraid) Someone came to say That he would go away ...