1.
Sad thy tale, thou idle page,
And rueful thy alarms:
Death tears the brother of her love
From Isabella's arms.
2.
Sweetly deckt with pearly dew
The morning rose may blow;
But cold successive noontide blasts
May lay its beauties low.
3.
Fair on Isabella's morn
The sun propitious smil'd;
But, long ere noon, succeeding clouds
Succeeding hopes beguil'd.
4.
Fate oft tears the bosom-chords
That Nature finest strung:
So Isabella's heart was forme'd,
And so that heart was wrung.
5.
Dread Omnipotence alone
Can heal the wound he gave -
Can point the brimful, grief-worn eyes
To scenes beyond the grave.
6.
Virtue's blossoms there shall blow,
And fear no withering blast;
There Isabella's spotless worth
Shall happy be at last.

Sad your tale, you idle page,
And rueful your alarms:
Death tears the brother of her love
From Isabella's arms.

Sweetly decked with pearly dew
The morning rose may blow;
But cold successive noontide blasts
May lay its beauties low.

Fair on Isabella's morn
The sun propitious smiled;
But, long before noon, succeeding clouds
Succeeding hopes beguiled.

Fate often tears the bosom-chords
That Nature finest strung:
So Isabella's heart was formeed,
And so that heart was wrung.

Dread Omnipotence alone
Can heal the wound he gave -
Can point the brimful, grief-worn eyes
To scenes beyond the grave.

Virtue's blossoms there shall blow,
And fear no withering blast;
There Isabella's spotless worth
Shall happy be at last.