Though poor, alone, And all unknown, Even to him for whom I die. IX. "Thou know'st it all-my tale is doneMy feeble strength and breath are gone, And I can only offer thee Thanks for thy prayer and sympathy— Implore thee to return this ring To GAMBA when I am no more, And tell him all this suffering That ISABELLE for GAMBA bore It is the pledge he gave to me To seal love's vows of constancy In our own lovely ITALY- I pray, too, thou'lt restore to him This gold, which at my feet he threw, When lingering on NIEVA's brim, And me unrecognized to view. And now 'tis hard from it to part; |