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NIJINSKY
Envy, rather, my fate:
For many would die to rest,
So pure and so consecrate.
In the tender tomb of your breast—
On its marble front to repose
Where a poet's kiss for me
Has written: Here lies a rose
Where a king might give all to be!
For many would die to rest,
So pure and so consecrate.
In the tender tomb of your breast—
On its marble front to repose
Where a poet's kiss for me
Has written: Here lies a rose
Where a king might give all to be!
Thus one might render very roughly into English those verses of Théophile Gautier which have suggested this beautiful little ballet of Le Spectre de la Rose. And here it is just worth noting that Gautier's poem was written in the year 1837, and that the ballet, as we see it to-day, seems to distil the very finest essence of that particular quality of sentiment which we call Early Victorian.
But more than this, Le Spectre de la Rose is a vision of youth—la Jeunesse—not wild, passionate, but virgin youth, just learning to be troubled with its first wonderful dream. Only in an atmosphere
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