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"Tu seras dame, et moi comte;
Viens, mon coeur s'épanouit;
Viens, nous conterons ce conte
Aux étoiles de la nuit."

La mélodie encor quelques instants 
se traîne
Sous les abres bleuis par la lune 
Puis tremble, puis expire, et la 
voix qui chantait
S'éteint comme un oiseau se pose;
tout se tait.

V. Hugo.
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Apr. 17.
Easter Sunday--

Went to Notre Dame in the morning with Mrs. Shipley and Annie.  The old Archbishop Richard walked in the procession blessing the people and it was very lovely.  He seemed to stand for centuries of devout religion. Organ fine too.  The enjoyment was mostly spoilt for me though by Mrs. S. who had one restless desire to see everything.  Even to standing on a chair.  It is dégoutant to me to enter into the midst of a religious ceremony & stride around with no reference to the partakers.  Left the Shipleys & went to St. Gervais.

Music in a church is the most solemnly delightful thing to be enjoyed.  It brings tears to your eyes, & you long for something, you dont know what, only it is celestial. The hopeless things in life
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