Jun 18
The Translator to the Author
Poet of beauty, pardon me if touch of mine have tarnishèd thy Pearl's pure luster, loved by thee; or dimmed thy vision of the dead alive in light and gaiety. Thy life is like a shadow fled; thy place we know not nor degree, the stock that bore thee, school that bred; yet shall thy fame be sung and said. Poet of wonder, pain, and peace, hold high thy nameless, laurelled head where Dante dwells with Beatrice
It is my duty to report that this epigraph of sorts to the Project Gutenberg translation of the Pearl kind of slaps
