Mistress-like, Its Brilliance Vain, Highly Capricious And

Then Came A Moment Of Renaissance, I Looked Up - You Again Are There, A Fleeting Vision, The Quintessence Of All That`s Beautiful And Rare.

There Yet Remains But One Concluding Tale, And Then This Chronicle Of Mine Is Ended - Fulfilled, The Duty God Ordained To Me, A Sinner. Not Without Purpose Did The Lord, Put Me To Witness Much For Many Years, And Educate Me In The Love Of Books. One Day Some Indefatigable Monk, Will Find My Conscientious, Unsigned Work; Like Me, He Will Light Up His Ikon-lamp, And, Shaking From The Scroll The Age-old Dust, He Will Transcribe These Tales In All Their Truth.

With Womankind, The Less We Love Them, The Easier They Become To Charm.

Try To Be Forgotten. Go Live In The Country. Stay In Mourning For Two Years, Then Remarry, But Choose Somebody Decent.

Thus People--so It Seems To Me-- Become Good Friends From Sheer Ennui.