Bright somewhere in a heaven below.
It is a strange and lovely night,
A greyish pale, but not white!
Is it rain, or is it dew,
That falls so thick I see its hue?
In rays it follows, one, two, three,
Down the air so merrily,
Said Isabelle, so let it be!
Why does the Lady Isabelle
Sit in the damp and dewy dell