And while he treads his dangerous path, the strains
Which Irza taught him soothe her lover’s pains.
She hears his steps, and hears them soon more near;
And loud she cries—“Rosalvo! Hear! oh, hear!
‘Tis Irza calls!” and now more quick, more nigh,
Down the steep rock she hears those footsteps fly.
Again she calls. He comes! He searches round;
He seeks the gate, and soon the gate is found.
Alas! ’t is found in vain! the marble guard
Seem’d rooted as the rock, whose mouth it barr’d.