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Updated: June 7, 2025


What can have brought thee here From Epidaurus? Tell me all thy tale! Thou art my mother as of old? JUNO. Thy mother! Time was thou call'dst me so. SEMELE. Thou art so still, And wilt remain so, till I drink full deep Of Lethe's maddening draught. JUNO. Soon Beroe Will drink oblivion from the waves of Lethe; But Cadmus' daughter ne'er will taste that draught. SEMELE. How, my good nurse?

And Shakespear, who excells in all these together, so far captivates the spectator, as to make him unmindful of every kind of violation of Time, Place, or Existence. As at the first appearance of the Ghost of Hamlet, "his ear must be dull as the fat weed, which roots itself on Lethe's brink," who can attend to the improbablity of the exhibition.

Meanwhile they dwell on Lethe's bank, and drink oblivion of their former lives." "Oh, father!" said AEneas, "is it possible that any can be so in love with life, as to wish to leave these tranquil seats for the upper world?" Anchises replied by explaining the plan of creation.

Long afterwards he expressed his hope that Landor's biographers would either let him slip off at Lethe's wharf, or else do him justice in a note. Before this unfortunate incident, Landor and Willis had corresponded on cordial terms.

"I saw thee gaze upon my face, Yet meet with no confusion there: One only feeling could'st thou trace; The sullen calmness of despair. "Away! away! my early dream Remembrance never must awake: Oh! where is Lethe's fabled stream? My foolish heart, be still, or break."

The sublimity of the slumber that is death has never been more nobly and feelingly portrayed than in the supine figure and sleeping features of this most beautiful young man, who lies watched by angels beneath a heavy-curtained canopy. The genii of eternal repose modelled by Greek sculptors are twin-brothers of Love, on whom perpetual slumber has descended amid poppy-fields by Lethe's stream.

But for others the cold mists that hang low by Lethe's banks have already brought forgetfulness before their feet grow icy with the first step into the dark water. To meet on Lethe-side is to meet, maybe; but with a sad unrecognising meeting. To lie together in oblivion, with sightless eyes, and dulled hearts and listless hands, that was not love's meaning.

"Lucy, I wish I could forget her?" "I wish you could if you do wish to do it," simply replied Lucy. "Wish! I wish I could have swallowed a draught of old Lethe's stream last February, and never recalled her again!"

They will find their pleasure in a cup that is filled from Lethe's wharf, and for the awakening, for the vision, for the revelation of reality, tradition offers us a different word ecstasy.... We must not make a false faith by hiding from our thoughts the causes of doubt, for faith is the highest achievement of the human intellect, the only gift man can make to God, and therefore it must be offered in sincerity.

Let us not recall the bickerings and the strifes, let the grass watered by Lethe's sweet spring creep over the scars in the bright prospect which lies under our loving gaze. Let us hold in our heart the tears in beauty's eyes; the smile that curls her crimson lips, and the hope that burns upon her brow.

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