And -- "Roland, in thy helping orisons, I
Beseech thee to remember me," he cried, "Nor recommend to thee less warmly my --"
-- Flordelice would, but could not, say -- and died;
And sounds and songs of angels in the sky, As the soul parts, are heard on every side;
Which from its prison freed, mid hymns of love, Ascends into the blissful realms above.