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.
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.
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