Fiorilla!
Shame! in a tone where bitterness so lately
Hath dwelt, to breathe her name—were not that name
Of power to sweeten all! Hear but her voice—
Oh! the dull spheres, to hear it, might descend,
Lessoned by music sweeter than their own!
’Twill charm the evil spirit from your soul,
As the enamored bard of old beguiled
Hell’s guilty prisoners to a transient bliss,
And won the bride he loved from Pluto’s arms!