Would he heed your timid whisperings?
Would he--will he come to-day?
REVENITA.




TO REVENITA

Fairies whisper, every whisper,
In the silence of the night,
And he catches the soft murmurs
Floating in the starry light.

And they tell him; yes, they tell him,
All in accents sweet and clear,
Of the beautiful Hereafter
That is ever drawing near.

There are loved ones, waiting, waiting,
For his footfall on the shore;
They will welcome his appearing--
They will greet him o'er and o'er.
SANSON.




TO SANSON