DESBORDES-VALMORE Marceline [Douai, 1786... - Lot 21 - Oger - Blanchet

Lot 21
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DESBORDES-VALMORE Marceline [Douai, 1786... - Lot 21 - Oger - Blanchet
DESBORDES-VALMORE Marceline [Douai, 1786 - Paris, 1859], French poetess. "Speech for the inauguration of the Desbordes Valmore Monument at the Douai celebrations. July 13, 1896". Text delivered by Count Robert de Montesquiou. 7 pages in-4°, traces of worms at the bottom, without altering the text (very outside the text). In a white vellum binding with gilt letters on the first cover: "Souvenir du 13 juillet 1896" "À Sarah Bernhardt". 3 gilded fillets surrounding the text. 24 x 19,7 cm. The book is enriched with a poem accompanied by an autograph letter signed by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore. Poem : La vie et la mort du Ramier. 5 quatrains. With its letter of sending to the editor of the Mercure in the 19th century. Lyon, October 24, 1829 : " I beg you to receive a very poor tribute of my gratitude. I do not deserve the gift that you make me with so much constancy of the newspaper which attaches me most, but in the impossibility to recognize this good process, I feel the need to tell you at least how much I am sensitive to it and that I will always remain, Sir, your very humble and obliged Marceline D. Valmore." Another autograph letter signed by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore to Hyacinthe Langlois, is attached to the work. Paris, August 8, 1833; 3 pages in-12; postmarked Rouen, August 18. "I will never be able to console myself for having left without embracing you, dear and beloved Monsieur Langlois, and I cannot forgive myself for not having told you yet. I live totally in the memory of Rouen that I still believe myself there very often. Make the share of my trouble and my tiredness, I beg you - I am at times - so tired that I can only lock myself in my regrets. You know perhaps well, and that too much that a star once become dark does not clear up of long time - I feel it. It is now inside that it pours very sad rays. Father de Valmore has kept from all this disaster a fatal disturbance in the blood, and here he is now bedridden, threatened with paralysis in the whole of his lower body. But, Mr. Langlois, all these pains do not come from the cruel games of some young men, it is from above that such serious trials fall. Who does not have his own? Those also who danced of our sorrows, will be one day serious in front of their own sorrows; and here is what prevented me from blaming anybody - I often said that, to our good friend Breviary! is it not also your opinion? For you who have poured all this balm of friendship on the still living wound, be blessed! It is your reason alone that will scold you for having done too much in your opposition to our judgment. I can only kiss you for the flowers you have thrown on my tears. Ah! the ugly weepers that women are! I decorated my room with the talent and the name of your son. If he ever comes to Paris, I ask you for his visit as a consolation for the one I did not receive in Rouen. I have not seen your dear hope. The first days of my arrival were spent in a thousand labors of installation of which I am the only one in charge here and now I am keeping sick. All to the will of God, whom I love because he makes beautiful and good things. How sweet it is to love, as I love you, dear Sir, with the most tender affection."
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