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!

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