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[Page 143]

"Il Balen del suo Sorriso"
Il Trovatore

All is hushed save night winds stealing
O'er the lime trees and the river
Sounds that called up gentlest feeling
Now have lost their charm for ever
The loved haunts then fraught with gladness
Can to me no joy impart
Memory brings alas but madness
In the tempest of the heart

Oh could I behold those glances
Brighter than the stars above thee
Hear the voice whose sound entrances
Breathing forth the words "I Love thee"

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