A realist, in Venice, would become a romantic by mere faithfulness to what he saw before him.
Arthur SymonsI had my dreams of Venice, but nothing that I had dreamed was as impossible as what I found.
Arthur SymonsAs perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me: all things leave me: You remain.
Arthur SymonsAnd I would have, now love is over, An end to all, an end: I cannot, having been your lover Stoop to become your friend!
Arthur Symons