I TERESA, ah, Teresita! Now what has the messenger brought her, Our Garibaldi's young daughter, To make her stop short in her singing? Will she not once more repeat a Verse from that hymn of our hero's, Setting the souls of us ringing? Break off the song where the tear rose? Ah. Teresita! II A young thing, mark, is Teresa: Her eyes have caught fire, to be sure, in That necklace of jewels from Turin, Till blind their regard to us men is. But still she remembers to raise a Sly look to her father, and note -- 'Could she sing on as well about Venice, Yet wear such a flame at her throat? Decide for Teresa.' III Teresa, ah, Teresita! His right hand has paused on her head -- 'Accept it, my daughter,' he said; 'Ay, wear it, true child of thy mother! Then sing, till all start to their feet, a New verse ever bolder and freer! King Victor's no king like another, But verily noble as we are, Child, Teresita!' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OCTAVES: 21 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON THE NIGHTINGALE by PAUL VERLAINE THE CANONIZATION by JOHN DONNE THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS [JANUARY 8, 1815] by THOMAS DUNN ENGLISH MOUNTAIN STORM by FRANCES DAVIS ADAMS REVERIE IN A CLASSROOM by DOROTHY LAUD BROWN |