Which shall it be? an answer oft
From puzzling doubts I've sought to wake;
Must joy, or misery, hence be mine,
Must heart or promise break?

Alone, Heaven's highest court would prove
A desolated land to me;
Earth's barest, barren desert wild,
A paradise with thee.
REVENITA.




TO 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.