Through her tears she saw a star shining in the night.
A star of sorrow.
The sea—they had gone together on its blue waves to Capri—to Sorrento—
Was it some terrible nightmare—would she awaken and find him near.
From a distant street came the sound of music—gay—lively—a Neapolitan street song.
How could there be joy. The sound was agony. An organ might have soothed.
Had there ever been a time when gay music delighted.
O Sole mio sang the clear voices of the street singers. They drew nearer—and stopped under the window.
Monica's wounded inward self cried out for silence
The world was drear. There should be no joyful singing.