Victor Hugo

Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age.

Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age.

A compliment is like a kiss through a veil.

A compliment is like a kiss through a veil.

And the dream that our mind had sketched in haste
Shall others continue, but never complete.
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And the dream that our mind had sketched in haste
Shall others continue, but never complete.
For none upon earth can achieve his scheme;
The best as the worst are futile here:
We wake at the self-same point of the dream,--
All is here begun, and finished elsewhere.

Then press my lips, where plays a flame of bliss,--
A pure and holy love-light,--and forsake
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Then press my lips, where plays a flame of bliss,--
A pure and holy love-light,--and forsake
The angel for the woman in a kiss,
At once I wis,
My soul will wake!

The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
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The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
The thin, clear crescent lustrous over her,
Made Ruth raise question, looking through the bars
Of heaven, with eyes half-oped, what God, what comer
Unto the harvest of the eternal summer,
Had flung his golden hook down on the field of stars.