Explore "Which is True?" by Charles Pierre Baudelaire on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I knew one Benedict? , who filled earth and air with the ideal; / and from whose eyes men learnt the desire of greatness, of / beauty, of glory, and of all whereby we believe in immortality.
But this miraculous child was too beautiful to live long; and / she died only a few days after I had come to know her, and I / buried her with my own hands, one day when Spring shook out her / censer in the graveyards. I buried her with my own hands, shut / down into a coffin of wood, perfumed and incorruptible like / Indian caskets.