FAREWELL, THERESA!
(VENETIAN AIR.)
Farewell, Theresa! yon cloud that over
Heaven's pale night-star gathering we see,
Will scarce from that pure orb have past ere thy lover
Swift o'er the wide wave shall wander from thee.
Long, like that dim cloud, I've hung around thee,
Darkening thy prospects, saddening thy brow;
With gay heart, Theresa, and bright cheek I found thee;
Oh, think how changed, love, how changed art thou now!
But here I free thee: like one awaking
From fearful slumber, thou break'st the spell;
'Tis over—the moon, too, her bondage is breaking—
Past are the dark clouds; Theresa, farewell!
HOW OFT, WHEN WATCHING STARS.
(SAVOYARD AIR.)
Oft, when the watching stars grow pale,
And round me sleeps the moonlight scene,
To hear a flute through yonder vale
I from my casement lean.
"Come, come, my love!" each note then seems to say,
"Oh, come, my love! the night wears fast away!"
Never to mortal ear
Could words, tho' warm they be,
Speak Passion's language half so clear
As do those notes to me!
Then quick my own light lute I seek,
And strike the chords with loudest swell;
And, tho' they naught to others speak,
He knows their language well.
"I come, my love!" each note then seems to say,
"I come, my love!—thine, thine till break of day."
Oh, weak the power of words,
The hues of painting dim
Compared to what those simple chords
Then say and paint to him!