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While she might be best known as the author of ‘The Age of Innocence’ (adapted for film, and starring Michelle Pfeiffer, and Daniel Day-Lewis), Edith Wharton wrote an extensive range of novels, journals, and poetry. Containing 24 poems, ‘Artemis to Actaeon’ muses on the themes of life, love, death, and the passing of time, with a few well-chosen words set aside for her beloved France. As the title suggests, there is plenty of classical inspiration as Wharton draws on ancient legends surrounding mythical figures, such as Orpheus, and Actaeon. Her writing is lyrical and has a yearning quality to it, particularly in poems such as ‘All Souls,’ and ‘Vesalius in Zarate.’ A superb collection for those familiar with Wharton’s work, and those new to her. Edith Wharton (1862 – 1937) was an American designer and novelist. Born in an era when the highest ambition a woman could aspire to was a good marriage, Wharton went on to become one of America’s most celebrated authors. During her career, she wrote over 40 books, using her wealthy upbringing to bring authenticity and detail to stories about the upper classes. She moved to France in 1923, where she continued to write until her death.
"Artemis to Actaeon and Other Verses" by Edith Wharton is a collection of poetry that transcends the boundaries of the page, immersing readers in the timeless and evocative world crafted by the renowned novelist. Published in the early 20th century, Wharton's verses showcase a departure from her narrative prose, revealing a lyrical and introspective facet of her literary talent. Within this collection, Wharton's poetic voice unfolds with grace and sophistication, offering readers a poetic journey that traverses classical mythology, human relationships, and the complexities of the human psyche. "Artemis to Actaeon" serves as a poetic dialogue between the goddess of the hunt and the ill-fated mortal, exploring themes of transformation and consequence. Wharton's exploration of mythological narratives is not mere homage; it is a reimagining that breathes new life into age-old tales. The collection goes beyond myth, delving into the emotional landscapes of love, desire, and introspection. Each verse is a brushstroke on the canvas of human experience, inviting readers to contemplate the nuances of existence.
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Excerpt from Artemis to Actaeon: And Other Verse Artemis To Actaeon Thou couldst not look on me and live: so runs The mortal legend - thou that couldst not live Nor look on me (so the divine decree)! That saw'st me in the cloud, the wave, the bough, The clod commoved with April, and the shapes Lurking 'twixt lid and eye-ball in the dark. Mocked I thee not in every guise of life, Hid in girls' eyes, a naiad in her well, Wooed through their laughter, and like echo fled, Luring thee down the primal silences Where the heart hushes and the flesh is dumb? Nay, was not I the tide that drew thee out Relentlessly from the detaining shore, Forth from the home-lights and the hailing voices, Forth from the last faint headland's failing line, Till I enveloped thee from verge to verge And hid thee in the hollow of my being? And still, because between us hung the veil, The myriad-tinted veil of sense, thy feet Refused their rest, thy hands the gifts of life, Thy heart its losses, lest some lesser face Should blur mine image in thine upturned soul About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works."
THOU couldst not look on me and live: so runs The mortal legend-thou that couldst not live Nor look on me (so the divine decree)! That saw'st me in the cloud, the wave, the bough, The clod commoved with April, and the shapes Lurking 'twixt lid and eye-ball in the dark. Mocked I thee not in every guise of life, Hid in girls' eyes, a naiad in her well, Wooed through their laughter, and like echo fled, Luring thee down the primal silences Where the heart hushes and the flesh is dumb? Nay, was not I the tide that drew thee out Relentlessly from the detaining shore, Forth from the home-lights and the hailing voices, Forth from the last faint headland's failing line, Till I enveloped thee from verge to verge And hid thee in the hollow of my being? And still, because between us hung the veil, The myriad-tinted veil of sense, thy feet Refused their rest, thy hands the gifts of life, Thy heart its losses, lest some lesser face Should blur mine image in thine upturned soul Ere death had stamped it there. This was thy thought. And mine?