The Wonderful Widow of Eighteen Springs

night by silent sailing night,

Isobel,

wildwoods eyes and primarose hair,

quietly,

all the woods so wild

in mauves of moss and daphne dews

how all so still she lay

'neath of the white thorn,

child of tree

like some lost happy leaf

like blowing flower stilled

as fain would she anon

for soon again 'twill be,

win me, woo me, wed me,

ah! weary me

deeply,

now even calm lay sleeping

night,

Isobel,

Sister Isobel,

Saintette Isobel,

Madame Isa Veuve La Belle.