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LEONORA.
I.
LEONORA, Leonora!
The chill drifts of winter thy bosom encumber;
The shrill tempest beats at the door of thy tomb:
Arise, O my love, from the silence of slumber,
Smile forth, and the glad world in roses will bloom!
      Leonora, Leonora!
White soul of my bride, shall I lure thee in vain?
Draw near in the light of thy snowy array;
Sweet singer, breathe softly thine olden refrain:
"Let the seasons roll on, let the moons wax and wane,
But Love shall not perish, nor wither away."

II.
      Leonora, Leonora,
The rushing winds thrill with the voice of my pleading: