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N.N.
by [?]


Calmly and gracefully thou movest along the path of life, tearless and
smileless, and scarce a heedless glance of indifferent attention ruffles
thy calm.

Thou art good and wise … and all things are remote from thee, and of no
one hast thou need.

Thou art fair, and no one can say, whether thou prizest thy beauty or not.
No sympathy hast thou to give; none dost thou desire.

Thy glance is deep, and no thought is in it; in that clear depth is
emptiness.

So in the Elysian field, to the solemn strains of Gluck’s melodies, move
without grief or bliss the graceful shades.

November 1879.