“Fare thee well! so soon to sever
Little thought I, when you said,
“Thine it is, and thine for ever
‘Shall be Zayda’s heart, my Zayde!’”
II.
Scarce moved the zephyr’s wings, while breathed the song,
And waves in silence bore the bark along.
’Twas Irza sang! Rosalvo at her side
Gazed on his cherub-love, his destined bride,
Felt at each look his soul in softness melt,