To find thee but a fancy flower--
Thou cherished idol of my heart.
SANSON.




TO SANSON

I've a beautiful home, where I live in my dreams,
So joyous and happy--an Eden it seems;
All beautiful things in nature and are
Are blending to rapture the mind and the heart;
No discords to jar, no dissensions arise,
'Tis calm as Italia's ever blue skies,
When kissed by the bright rosy blush of the morn;
And a voice of the spheres on the breezes is borne,
Soft as the murmur of sea-tinted shells,
Sweet as the chiming of far away bells;
And grief cannot enter, nor trouble nor care,
And the proud peerless prince of my soul, he is there.

In my beautiful home from the cold world apart,
He holds me so close to his fast beating heart;
More enchanting his voice than the syren-wrapt song,
O'er the wind-dimpled ocean soft floating along,
As he whispers his love in love's low passioned tone,
Such home, and such lover, no other has known.
REVENITA.