The Atheist\'s Mass
THE ATHEIST'S MASS BY HONORE DE BALZAC Translated by Clara Bell This is dedicated to Auguste Borget by his friend De Balzac Bianchon, a physician to whom science owes a fine system of theoretical physiology, and who, while still young, made himself a celebrity in the medical school of Paris, that central luminary to which European doctors
It is but a lone faded rosebud
That a dearly loved one gave to me,
In years now long past but remembered
And shrined for the years yet to be.
It opens the floodgates of memory,
Discoursing of dear days gone by,
Dead and buried except to rememb'rance
Which never can slumber or die.
For hearts that have once truly mingled,
In sympathy, love and esteem,
Can never be really sundered
Though oceans and seas roll between.
And still I will cherish my rosebud,
Though it never may bloom to a flower,
As a symbol of love that was strangled
In life's saddest yet happiest hour.
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THE ATHEIST'S MASS BY HONORE DE BALZAC Translated by Clara Bell This is dedicated to Auguste Borget by his friend De Balzac Bianchon, a physician to whom science owes a fine system of theoretical physiology, and who, while still young, made himself a celebrity in the medical school of Paris, that central luminary to which European doctors