Your Name Hangs In My Heart Like

Roxane: Live, For I Love You! Cyrano: No, In Fairy Tales When To The Ill-starred Prince The Lady Says 'i Love You!' All His Ugliness Fades Fast-- But I Remain The Same, Up To The Last! Roxane: I Have Marred Your Life--i, I! Cyrano: You Blessed My Life! Never On Me Had Rested Woman's Love. My Mother Even Could Not Find Me Fair: I Had No Sister; And, When Grown A Man, I Feared The Mistress Who Would Mock At Me. But I Have Had Your Friendship--grace To You A Woman's Charm Has Passed Across My Path.

My Heart Always Timidly Hides Itself Behind My Mind. I Set Out To Bring Down Stars From The Sky, Then, For Fear Of Ridicule, I Stop And Pick Little Flowers Of Eloquence.

Stay Awhile! 'tis Sweet,. . . The Rare Occasion, When Our Hearts Can Speak Our Selves Unseen, Unseeing!

Where Lurk Sweet Echoes Of The Dear Homevoices, Each Note Of Which Calls Like A Little Sister, Those Airs Slow, Slow Ascending, As The Smokewreaths Rise From The Hearthstones Of Our Native Hamlets Cyrano Act 5.

Roxane: His Face Is Like Yours, Burning With Spirit And Imagination. He Is Proud And Noble And Young And Fearless And Beautiful- Cyrano:(losing All His Colour.) Beautiful! Roxane: Yes. What's Wrong? Cyrano: With Me? Nothing. It's Only... Only... (displaying His Bandaged Hand, With A Little Smile.) This Fatal Wound.