My gentle Geraldine.
Her glances pierce my penitent heart,
As like a statued saint she stands —
A seraph from those unknown lands
To which my soul must soon depart,
Freed from its fleshy bands.
Sweet Geraldine! her beauty fell
On sense and soul, like light from heaven;
My heart looked up, like Dives from hell,
And prayed to be forgiven;