<i>Margaret:</i>
Isn't a lovely night?
And so alive with fireflies providing us their holy light
And here we made a bed of boughs
And thistle down that we had found to lay upon the dewy ground
And isn't a lovely way
We got in from our play,
Isn't it babe? A sweet little baby
<i>William:</i>
Wasn't it a lovely breeze
That swept the leaves of arbor eaves and bent to brush our blushing knees?
<i>Margaret and William:</i>
And here we died our little deaths
And we were left to catch our breaths so switftly lifting from our chests?
And isn't it a lovely way we got in from our play
Isn't it babe?
A sweet little baby