LABELLEAU BOIS DORMANT

LABELLEAU BOIS DORMANT

From deepest sleep I dreamt of you, Garbo, the beautiful and true, Not as in youth you once had been, A wraith enchanted to the screen, But as you might have been in age, Playing upon a painted stage Where, despite all the years had claimed, Something of beauty still remained. Surely such sleeping loveliness Never could sink to nothingness But might be woken with a kiss; You with a kiss might wake me too Out of the dream I dreamt of you, Garbo, the beautiful and true.