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Alma-Tadema, Laurence, 1865?-1940

"The Wings of Icarus Being the Life of one Emilia Fletcher"

But I must first be
strong, test my strength to the uttermost, and tell myself every
day, "She will be his; she will take the joy that shone into your
eyes; you will have nothing, nothing."
Then I must try to realise that thought and bear it nobly; for to
make a sacrifice and bear it ill is beneath contempt.

_July 9th._--How beautiful love is! Now that, one by one, I am
breaking the tendrils from the wall, and shall soon hold Love in my
hand, an emblem merely, clinging to nothing, I see all that is
divine in it. I myself am selfish, earth-smeared; yet by means of
this talisman I am to be heroic, even I, finding joy in the gift I
prepare for others through the tearing of my heart, the outpouring
of my own blood. It is a blessed madness. Sober, I could not.
To-day one week remains. Gabriel said to me just now, "In a week,
Emilia, we shall be gone."
"Yes, dear," said I; and I wondered at his strength, at his loyalty
to me.
How comes it, I wonder, that it took me so long to find the small
straight path. I must hasten now and be ready soon; he has suffered
all too long. And Constance is thin, her eyes hang heavily, she
helps me prepare my wedding clothes, and is gay, to hide what she
cannot.


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