More than a mortal, whom it were no sin
To worship with such mad idolatry
As Danaë felt, when bursting from the skies
The god descended in a shower of gold—
When with thy passionate, yet melting words
You won my trembling lip to breathe my love,
I did not dream of this. But oh, Geraldi!
Changed as thou art, the wreck of that proud hour,
A broken statue and a fallen star,
Though all the world should scorn thee, and thine heart,
False to thyself, disdain thy truest friend,
I will not leave thee to thy misery,
But to the last sad moment of thy life
Strive with my humble skill to comfort thee.
Geraldi.
Love me, my Veronica! dost thou still,
Still love me? Oh! it is impossible
To veil my feelings in this odious mask!
I have not fortitude to sacrifice
Thy sweet affection, even for thy dear sake.
