Is promised by the bud that tops its stem.
How have I, through the saintly medium
Of the confessional, impressed the ear
Of Isabella, daughter and dear child!
The incarnation of my dear ideal,
Pure crucifix of my religious love,
Sweet cross which my ambition guards and holds:
Ploughed up the early meadows of her soul
For fruitful increase! in her maiden heart
Insinuated subtleties of seed