prove A desolated land to me; Earth's barest, barren desert wild, A paradise with thee. REVENITA. Thou hast beamed on my pathway, a vision of light, To guide and to bless from afar; To illume with thy smile the dead chill of night, My star, my bright, beautiful star. The sun pales before thee, the moon is a blot On the sky where thine own splendors are; And dark is the day where thy presence is not, My star, my bright, beautiful star. SANSON. O love, do not call me a star! 'Tis too cold and bright, and too far Away from your arms; I would be, The life drops that flow in your veins, The pulses that throb in your heart. My bosom should be the warm sea Of forgetfulness, tinged with the stains Of the sunset, when day-dreams depart; You should drink at its fountain of kisses, Drink mad of its fathomless deep; Submerged in an ocean of blisses, I'd be something to kiss and to keep. Loving, and tender, and true, I'd be nearer, oh! nearer to you Than the glittering meteors are; Then, love, do not call me a star. REVENITA. Thou'st made for me an atmosphere of life; The very air is brighter from thine eyes, They are so soft and beautiful, and rife With all we can imagine of the skies. O woman, where is they resistless power; I swore the livery of Heaven to grace, Yet stand, to-day, a sacrilegious tower, Perjured by the witchery of thy face. SANSON. Then, love, I'll give thee back thy perjured vow; I would not hold thee with one pleading breath; It may be best to leave the pathway now, That can but lead to death. I'll crush the agonies that burning swell, And say farewell. REVENITA. "Farewell?" No, not farewell, I'll worship ever Thy form divine. No death's despair, no voice of doom shall sever My heart from thine. Thou'st crowned me with they love and bade me wear it, I kiss the shrine. I will not give thee up, nay, here I swear it, That thou art mine. * * * * * * * * * * A desecrated holiness is o'er me, I've held the Thyrsus cup; I've dared the thunderbolts of Heaven for thee, I will not give up.
Prev.
Back
Top