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The Wonderful Widow of Eighteen Springs
by
James Joyce
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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
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