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"Berthe aux grands yeux d'azur, ouvre done ta paupière, Chasse les rêves d'or de ton léger sommeil Ils sont l
Peut-être, avant que l'heure en cercle promenée Ait posé, sur l'émail brillant, Dans les soixante pas où sa route est bornée, Son pied sonore et vigilant, Le sommeil du tombeau pressera ma paupière At this unfinished stanza was the pensive poet summoned to the guillotine! The domestic life of genius. Defects of great compositions attributed to domestic infelicities.
The queen was singing, and the tones of her soulful voice resound still in my heart. The song was this: 'Dors, mon enfant, clos ta paupiere, Tes cris me dechirent le coeur: Dors, mon enfant, ta pauvre mere A bien assez de sa douleur. And while she sang she turned her head toward her son, who listened to her motionless and as if enchanted.
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