Love. Jp. A. Calosse

      Galatea

      Gustave Moreau, 1880.

      Oil on wood panel, 85 × 67 cm.

      Musée d’Orsay, Paris.

      Ofttimes I have this strange and penetrating dream:

      An unknown woman whom I love and who loves me,

      And who, though never changing, ever seems to be

      Another —

      In whose eyes I see a well known gleam.

      She understands. My heart that doth transparent seem

      For her alone, alas, ceases also to be

      For her, alone, a problem; and her tears fall free

      Upon my pallid brow, refreshing as a stream.

      Pygmalion and the Image: The Hand Refrains

      Edward Burne-Jones, 1875–1878.

      Oil on canvas, 99.1 × 76.2 cm.

      Museum and Art Gallery, Birmingham.

      Brunette, or blonde, or Titian-haired? I do not know!

      Her name? ‘Twas sweet I weel recall when spoken low,

      As sweet as those beloved ones by Life exiled.

      Her glance is that of statues – looks that vaguely thrill —

      And her voice – calm, faintly sounding, gravely mild

      It hath the echo of dear voices long since still.

Paul Verlaine (1844–1896)

      Pygmalion and the Image: The Soul Attains

      Edward Burne-Jones, 1875–1878.

      Oil on canvas, 99.1 × 76.2 cm.

      Museums and Art Gallery, Birmingham.

      Oh, rapturous martyrdom! ravishing pain!

      Oh, infinite anguish and bliss!

      With her horrible talons she wounded me,

      While she thrilled my soul with a kiss.