This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1834 edition. Excerpt: ... s. Now o'er thy head, my virgin love, Rolls Ocean's wave; But fond regret, in myrtle grove, Hath dug thy grave. Sweet flowers, around her vacant urn Your wreaths I '11 twine, And pray such flowers, ere Spring's return, May garland mine "He he " -- That love-lorn dirge -- that heavenly tongue -- That air, she taught him; 't was Rosnlvo sung Rosalvo, whom the waves, which wreck'd their bark, Had borne, like her, for purpose sad and dark, To that strange isle; though far remote the beach From Irza's grot, which Fate ordain'd him reach; But now at length his curious search explores These rude and slippery crags and distant shores; 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. Yet still, with labouring nerves, to move the stone He struggles. Now he stops; and, hark A groan But one; then all was hush'd A sickening chill Seized Irza's heart, and seem'd her veins to thrill. Fain had she call'd her youthful bridegroom's name; Her tongue Fear's numbing fingers seem'd to lame. Footsteps -- more near they drew: -- slow rolled the stone -- The infernal gaoler came, but came alone. With anxious glance his eye explored the cell; But when it fix'd on her's, abash'd it fell. He knelt, and seem'd to fear her frown. He bore His club. 'T was splash'd with brains 't was wet with gore She fear'd -- she guess'd --...